Sway Sway
I've always had naturally low energy, so growing up, I basically treated myself like I was a corpse.
While other kids are learning to talk and walk, I'm busy figuring out how to keep my body temperature low and my heart rate down.
In a game of hide-and-seek at preschool, my classmate locks me in a cabinet. I'm fine being alive or dead, so I just hold my breath and wait for death to take me. I even thoughtfully arrange myself like I'm on a slab in the morgue.
When he finally opens the door and sees me looking dead, he bursts into tears and wets himself, saying he's killed somebody.
Later on, a human trafficker spots me on the street. The second his hand clamps over my mouth, I slip right into character, not even bothering to focus my eyes.
He scoops me up, runs to the ER so hard that he's practically flying, and has a breakdown. He yells, "I had nothing to do with this! He was dead when I found him!"
When I turn 18, my ultra-rich biological parents finally come to take me home.
I'm not exactly eager to move, but once I hear that I won't even have to roll over in bed by myself at their home, I reluctantly agree to go with them.
The moment I step through the door, there's trouble. Ethan Ziegler, the fake heir, slips, and the bowl of soup in his hand flies straight for my face—he wants to see me make a fool of myself.
Dodging sounds way too hard on my lower back, so I let him drench me from head to toe and just go down like a felled tree.
The room goes dead silent.
Then my elder sister, Felicia Ziegler, rushes over and holds her finger under my nose. Her face turns pale, and she collapses onto the floor.
"H-He… he's not breathing!"