Never Meant to Leave
The day I died was Mommy’s birthday.
For once, she left me an unusually large slice of cake.
I hovered before it, greedy, leaning in to breathe in its sweetness.
But the very next second, she handed the cake to my younger sister, Bella Tesla.
“Have some, Bella. Better you than that ungrateful girl!”
Then she turned to Daddy, who was filming nearby.
“You recorded everything, right? When she returns, make her watch it. Don’t let her say again that we play favorites!
“Of all things to learn, she learned how to run away from home!
“We spoiled her! If she has any sense, let her never come back!”
She sneered as she slammed the table and cursed at me, never noticing the panic on Bella’s face as she held the cake.
She also failed to notice Bella’s disheveled hair.
She noticed even less the dark stains of blood on her sleeve.
Blood that belonged to me.