My Mother’s Favorite Lesson Killed Me

Ethan threw away his pride. Face flushed red, he dropped to his knees before Mom.

"Mom, I'll give you all my allowance. Please don't send my sister away."

He pressed his forehead to the floor, kowtowing again and again. Before long, the skin on his forehead had broken open.

This time, Mom couldn't hold back her expression. She laughed.

To me, that laugh looked twisted beyond recognition.

"Ethan, it's good that you know you were wrong. But only a real lesson will make you remember it—so you never dare make that mistake again."

"Rita, take his sister away."

I couldn't hold on anymore. I was dragged into the car.

The moment we got in, Rita stuffed a rag into my mouth.

I tried to struggle, but she slapped me across the face, impatient.

"Your own mother doesn't want you. Move again and I'll throw you out of this car—let you live as a little beggar!"

I didn't want to be a dirty beggar. I didn't dare move.

"Lily! Lily!"

I looked back. Ethan was chasing the car like a madman, running so hard one of his shoes flew off, but he didn't stop.

Not until he tripped and fell, and couldn't keep up anymore.

Rita didn't actually take me far. She pulled me toward a building that had been half-demolished before construction stopped.

Everything around it was empty. Everyone had moved out.

Rita dragged me upward. I walked carefully, placing each step lightly, trying not to look at the walls that had half-disappeared.

"Relax. It's only half torn down, but it's still concrete. You can live here."

Rita hurried me along with a look of disgust.

Actually, this place was only one street away from my home.

I tried hard to memorize the way back, thinking I'd run home when she wasn't paying attention.

Rita took me up to the third floor and locked me in the only room that was still mostly intact.

"You'll stay here for a few days. I left food inside—eat when you're hungry. If you need to use the bathroom, just find a spot. I'll come get you after I'm done playing mahjong."

She seemed like she wanted to say something else, but call after call kept interrupting her.

"You need a fourth? I'm on my way!"

Rita shut the door, locked it casually, and hurried off.

The room had nothing in it except a table and a bed.

On the table sat a few small bread rolls. On the bed lay a dirty blanket.

I didn't want to stay here.

I tried to reach the door handle and found the lock was broken. It couldn't actually hold the door shut.

After struggling all afternoon, the sky outside had gone completely dark.

By moonlight, I walked toward where I remembered the stairs being.

It was too dark in here. I stepped on something—I don't know what—and my foot slipped out from under me.

I didn't even have time to scream. Pain tore through me, and everything went black.

Then I floated up.

I saw myself lying there, my neck twisted at an impossible angle.

So dying was that easy.

I looked around, lost. With nowhere else to go, I went home.

It was dinnertime. Mom was humming while she cooked.

She was making stir-fried beef with scallions—Ethan's favorite.

Beside it sat dishes already finished: braised fish for my sister, braised eggplant for Dad, scrambled eggs with tomatoes for Mom.

Nothing I liked.

I stood next to Mom. She seemed to be in a good mood.

My leaving was apparently just a small thing to her.

"Mom."

I called out softly, wanting her to know I'd come back like a good girl. Could she hug me? Or just smile at me? Today had really, really hurt.

But Mom couldn't see me at all.

The living can't see the dead.

Dad walked into the kitchen and glanced at Ethan, who sat stiffly at the table.