Chapter 1

I crouched down and searched around for my medicine. Yet, even after swallowing several pills, my heart palpitations didn't subside.

I suddenly recalled something the doctor had once told me. "Drugs can only help to a certain extent. Only your familial relationships can truly provide you with the sense of security you need."

I called Mom with shaking hands. I heard a busy tone, after which I was transferred to voicemail.

I recalled that my older sister, Winifred Linberry, hated it when my parents focused their attention on me.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down.

As soon as I leaned against the couch, I felt a strange sensation—a hair tie that didn't belong to me was sticking out of the armrest.

Winnie loved these sparkly, glittery designs the most.

Countless memories flooded through my mind—Winnie "just so happening" to trip and fall when I needed my parents' attention, Winnie "accidentally" overturning my glass of water when I was taking my medicine, Winnie "unintentionally" playing loud music when I startled awake at night…

I felt increasingly short of breath and rushed into my parents' bedroom to look for an inhaler.

However, their cabinet held only family photos of my parents with Winnie. They were smiling brightly in every photo, which depicted them visiting an amusement park, hiking, and going to the beach.

I never knew they'd gone on these outings.

There was also a newly taken family photo positioned near the edge of the photo frame. In the photo, Dad had his arms around Mom and Winnie. The three of them painted a heartwarming picture together.

My heart was pounding so loudly that it was all I could hear.

I swept the photo frame onto the floor. The glass shards cut into my ankle. A drop of blood landed on the photograph and smeared over Winnie's smiling face.

The mess on the floor reminded me of Dad's angry outburst last week.

"What exactly do we have to do to stop you from having any more episodes?" he had bellowed angrily.

They must be sick and tired of me constantly making everyone feel tense and pressured.

I hurriedly tried to clean up the shards, but as soon as I stood up, the world started spinning.

Countless voices clamored in my head.

"You're unnecessary!"

"It's all your fault!"

"They don't even want to be your parents!"

I stumbled behind the small partition inside the storeroom. The dark, cramped space allowed me to catch my breath for a moment.

I really, really missed Mom's warm hugs.

After much hesitation, I called Winnie. She had once told me that I could always go to her for help.

After the fifth ring, the call finally connected. I could hear the sound of laughter and cheerful music in the background.

"Sadie? I'm with my friends right now," said Winnie.

"I'm… not feeling well. Could you ask Dad and Mom to—"

Someone took the phone from Winnie, after which I heard Mom say in a low voice, "Your sister's having a great time relaxing with her friends today. You're already 18, Sadie. Can you stop acting up every time something happens?"

With that, she hung up.

The faint glow of the phone screen illuminated my tear-streaked face.

Mom was right. I was an adult, yet I was still constantly being a burden on my family. I didn't deserve to have parents like them at all.

Mom's old knitted cardigan was draped over the partition. I took it and wrapped it around myself.

It still carried the faint scent of laundry detergent—the same fragrance I always smelled back when she used to put me to sleep every night.

I buried my face in the soft fabric. I imagined that Mom was patting my back and saying comfortingly, "I'm here."

I didn't know how much time had passed, but I gradually felt more and more suffocated.

Around the same time, the last sliver of light beneath the door frame vanished as well. I closed my eyes and reminisced on my short 18 years of life.

Perhaps my disappearance would be the best outcome for everyone involved.

My parents wouldn't have to take time off for me anymore, Winnie's classmates wouldn't laugh at her for having a nutcase for a sister anymore, and I would no longer have to count my pills while pretending to be okay in front of the doctor.

I loosened my grip on the partition and let my consciousness sink into the depths, surrounded by the scent of the sweater.

I felt like I was a child again, and Mom was humming me a lullaby to put me to sleep.