Chapter 3

When there was still no movement from the room, my mom's anger flared up again.

She stormed straight into the bedroom and yanked open a locked drawer.

She used to say that the drawer held the things she treasured most.

When she pulled it open, what lay inside were all the gifts I had given her every Mother's Day.

A card made of carefully glued flower petals, spelling out, 'I love you, Mom.'

Also, a bracelet I had spent ages weaving by hand with colorful threads.

I never expected that she had kept them all so carefully.

However, she then tore through them like a madwoman, ripping the cards into tiny pieces without hesitation.

Bits of colorful paper fluttered to the floor, covering it.

I cried as I dropped to the ground, trying to gather them up and piece them back together.

'Mom, don't tear them up. I worked really hard on those.

'After I die, I won't be able to make you any more gifts.'

However, my mom's face was cold as she picked up a pair of scissors and, without a moment's pause, cut straight through the woven bracelet.

"You made a mistake and still dared to throw a tantrum? If you won't come out, then stay in that room and reflect on yourself forever!"

The colorful threads snapped apart, just like the bond between my mom and me, severing it completely.

My dad hurried over and grabbed her arm.

"Alright, alright, calm down. Tanya just fell asleep. If you wake her up, it'll be a mess. If Yanne wants to stay in there, just let her."

At the mention of my little sister, my mom finally stopped. She shot a vicious glare at my bedroom door.

"Fine. Let her die in there."

The next morning, before leaving for work, my dad reminded her, saying, "I might have to work overtime today. Watch Tanya at home, and check later to see if Yanne has come out. Don't let her suffocate in there."

My mom waved him off impatiently.

"I know."

After my dad left, my mom focused entirely on playing with Tanya.

She forgot that it was a Monday.

I had a tutoring class on Mondays.

However, only two minutes passed before there was a sudden knock at the door.

"You're Yanne's mother, right? Look at my grandson. He was beaten up by your little shrew of a daughter!"

I perked up immediately. It was that bad kid's grandmother.

She had come to complain plenty of times before. Every time, my mom would defend me and scold her out the door.

I covered my mouth and snickered, floating over to see how long it would take for my mom to chase her away this time.

"That cursed child. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I know it must be Yanne's fault. Don't worry, I'll make her apologize to him."

My mom's face looked awful.

I stood helplessly in front of her, my heart aching as if pierced by needles.

Tears fell onto the back of my hand, one after another.

In my mom's eyes, was I really that bad?

'But Mom, you know it's not true. I never bully anyone first.

'And why should I apologize? He bullied my sister. I didn't do anything wrong. If there's a next time, I'll hit him again.'

I floated in front of the bad kid and swung my fist at him.

However, he could not see me, and he certainly was not afraid.

The corners of my mouth drooped.

Looking down at my transparent body, I realized I was already dead. I would never be able to protect my sister again.

Seeing how compliant my mom was, the bad kid's grandmother grew even more arrogant.

"An apology isn't enough. She should bow to my grandson. So young and already so vicious. Who knows how terrible she'll be when she grows up?"

My mom nodded repeatedly and headed toward my bedroom.

"Yanne! Get out here right now! You've caused trouble, and you're hiding? Come out and apologize!"

Inside the bedroom, there was nothing but silence.

My mom's face darkened, her voice turning even harsher.

"I'm telling you now: stop pretending you're dead. If you don't open the door right now, don't even think about coming out for dinner tonight. Stay in there and reflect properly!"

It felt like a long time passed.

There was no tearful defense from me, no frightened crying, only a deathly stillness.

"This damn kid, she's really trying to fight me on this."

My mom cursed under her breath, then turned to the bad kid's grandmother with an apologetic smile.

"Look at her, completely spoiled by me. She has no good sense at all. Why don't I apologize to you and the child on her behalf and cover the medical expenses? Would that be alright?"

The bad kid's grandmother pursed her lips and reluctantly agreed.

"Fine. Since you have a good attitude toward this incident, I won't argue with that little shrew. But I'm telling you, keep your daughter under control. Don't let her bully my grandson again!"

"Of course, of course," my mom said quickly, seeing her to the door.

The moment the door closed, the smile on her face vanished, replaced by pure disgust.

She walked up to my bedroom door and kicked it hard.

"Yanne, if you've got the guts, then stay in there forever. It'd be better if you starved to death."

With that, she turned around and went back to the living room to play with my sister.