Chapter 2

"Don't play dead."

Mom's voice came from afar.

"Who are you trying to kid, playing dead each time you do something wrong?"

I opened my eyes and found myself standing by the dining table.

Strange. Didn't I just fall down?

I looked down and saw someone on the ground.

She was wearing an ill-fitting school uniform that had faded from many washings.

She was kneeling on the floor, her head plastered on the floorboard.

Was that… me?

I reached out to touch the person on the ground, but my hand went through the body.

Was I dead?

Even as the thought crossed my mind, I realized I didn't feel very scared.

In fact, I felt a sense of relief.

I no longer had to bear with hunger or walk on eggshells, living under someone's thumb.

Mom was coaxing Hailey.

"Darling, you won't look pretty if your eyes become swollen from crying."

"Helen is naughty. I'll punish her."

"Daddy will be back real soon. I'll ask him to take us out for some fried chicken."

Hailey sobbed as she pointed at me, still kneeling on the ground.

"Why isn't she moving?"

Mom chuckled coldly.

"She's ashamed, of course. She was shameless for stealing your food."

"Let her kneel on the ground. She can get up whenever she realizes her mistake!"

The door opened, and Dad walked in with his briefcase.

"What's happening? I could hear all the crying from the stairwell."

Hailey jumped into Dad's embrace.

"Helen stole my meatball!"

"Mommy hit her, and she's on the floor, refusing to get up!"

Dad furrowed his brows and glanced at me on the floor with a look of frustration in his eyes.

"Is there a need to kick up such a huge fuss over something so trivial?"

He walked over and kicked my calf with the tip of his toe.

"Get up! Stop embarrassing yourself!"

My corpse remained unmoving.

My leg shook from his kick but fell back to its original position.

Dad ran out of patience.

"Trying to be stubborn now, aren't you?"

Mom crossed her arms before her chest and chuckled coldly.

"She's just spoiled. Stealing her sister's meatball is just the start. She'll soon end up stepping all over us."

"Let her kneel on the floor. She can get up when she realizes her mistake."

Dad tugged at his necktie.

"Alright. Continue kneeling, and you can forget about eating dinner tonight."

Hailey's tears stopped at once.

"Daddy, I want fried chicken!"

"I want a whole bucket of it! I want ice cream, too!"

"Sure, whatever you want."

The three of them put on their shoes and headed out.

Bam!

The gate shut tight, and the house became quiet once more, save for the ticking of the clock on the wall.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

I floated in mid-air, looking at myself.

I was in a very awkward position, and my neck was bent at an extreme angle.

There was a faint blood stain in the hair at the back of my head.

It was very faint and blocked by my hair, making it impossible to see the blood flowing into the collar.

No wonder they didn't see the wound.

The sky gradually turned dark, and no lights were switched on in the house.

The bowl that Hailey tipped over was still on the dining table. A few drops of the meatball sauce were left on the table, almost drying up.

I crawled over and tried to sniff hard, but I couldn't smell anything.

As it turned out, a dead person didn't even have the right to smell something fragrant.

My stomach had stopped growling, but I still felt hungry.

I wanted some fried chicken, too.

I had never tasted fried chicken before. Each time they went out to eat fried chicken, they would lock me up at home, leaving me two slices of white bread.

Whenever Hailey came back, there would be ketchup clinging onto the corner of her mouth. She would deliberately draw close to me and breathe on my face.

"Helen, the fried chicken was so good. A pity you couldn't try it."

At eleven o'clock, I could hear the door unlocked. They were back.

Hailey was holding onto a red balloon with one hand and a half-finished cupcake in the other.

"Mommy, I'm tired."

"Take a shower before going to bed. You're all oily and greasy."

Mom changed out of her shoes and switched on the lights in the living room.

The sudden flood of lights was piercing to my eyes, and I instinctively covered them with my arms.

I was still in the same position they left me on the ground.

Mom glanced at me, stunned.

"Still kneeling?" She chuckled.

"I really wonder where she got her stubbornness from."

Dad yawned and as he walked past the dining room to the washroom, his pant leg brushing against my shoulder.

I swayed a little but soon regained my balance.

Dad stopped in his tracks and turned back to look at me.

"Helen, that's quite enough."

"You still have school tomorrow. Quickly wash up and go to bed."

When I didn't respond to him, Dad started getting mad.

"Do you not hear what I just said? Have you gone mute?"