Chapter 2

I watched Mom turn and walk away.

Poking his head round the door, Daniel stuck his tongue out at me. "Bye, Irene. We're going to watch the super pretty fireworks now."

The collar around his neck was glowing bright green.

What a nice color…

With a bang, the door slammed shut. The sound of the door locking was like a blow straight to my heart.

The house became terrifyingly quiet all at once. I was the only one left at home, with my stomach aching like it was being sliced open.

Even though it hurt a lot, Mom said that machines would never lie.

My collar was red, so I really had to be lying.

It didn't hurt. This pain wasn't real. I cried while desperately telling myself those things.

After a long time had passed, it really did seem like it didn't hurt as much anymore.

I used all the strength I had to crawl toward my desk.

I needed to write a self-reflection. That was the rule in this house. Whenever the collar flashed red, I had to write a thousand words. The content was always just one sentence—"I am a liar."

Mom would forgive me once I was done, right? Maybe she would even take me to the hospital then.

With incredibly shaky hands, I opened the crumpled notebook.

It was densely filled with my past reflection essays. All I used to write were sentences like, "I'm sorry. I was wrong. I won't lie again."

But this time, I wanted to write some truths.

My vision grew blurry, and tears kept falling as I slowly wrote, "Mom, I really love you. I really am in pain. Why won't you believe me? Can you believe me just this once, Mom?"

The moment I finished writing my last word, the pain in my stomach suddenly vanished.

The feeling was replaced by a strange lightness I had never felt before. It felt like I had become weightless, and I was slowly floating upward.

Looking down, I saw myself slumped over the desk. My hand hung in mid-air, and I was perfectly still.

The collar around my neck was still flashing red nonstop.

Oh, I was already dead.

But… I still didn't know how to be an honest child.

I'm sorry, Mom.

…

The sound of laughter woke me up. It was Mom, Dad, and Daniel.

"The fireworks were so beautiful! That smiley face one was especially adorable, just like our Danny!"

Mom sounded genuinely happy, and I had never heard her use such a gentle tone before.

While floating in the air, I watched the front door open.

I instinctively drifted over to them, ready to do what I always did, which was to greet them with water. That urge to please them was practically part of me by now.

"Mom."

I spread my arms, wanting to hug her. "It doesn't hurt anymore. I'll be good from now on. Please don't be angry with me anymore."

Alas, my hands went right through her, as if she were made of nothing.

Mom abruptly shuddered. She frowned, asking, "Why is it so cold in here? Did we not turn on the heater?"

I looked down at my translucent hands.

Oh, right. I was dead. The dead couldn't touch the living.

Dad casually said, "Go check on Irene. She hasn't come out to eat. We can't actually let her go hungry."

I looked at Mom expectantly. If she found out I was dead, would she be sad? Would she feel remorse?

Letting out a cold snort, Mom walked toward my room. "If she starves, that's on her. She pretended to be sick just to get attention. That's what happens when we spoil her too much."

When she opened my door, she noticed the lights were off. With the aid of the light spilling from the living room, she spotted me slumped over my desk, motionless as if asleep.

She stood there with her arms crossed, sarcasm thick in her voice. "Oh? You're lying there now? You think acting pitiful will get me to carry you to bed? Irene, you're ten. You're no longer a five-year-old."

Standing beside her, I screamed desperately, "Mom, I'm not acting! I'm already dead! Just touch me! My body's already cold to the touch!"

But she couldn't hear me. She only believed what she wanted to see.

Daniel squeezed his way under her arm and proudly displayed his neck. "Irene is so lazy! Look, my collar is green! Irene's is still red!"