“Who told you you can eat? huh?” A scream came from the living room, followed by stomping footsteps, like an elephant about to go on a rampage. I was almost done with my leftover bowl of soup until my Mother slapped it off the table. It all fell to the floor, wasted and messy. 

“Don’t come out of your room do you understand?” I can feel her breathing down my neck; the smell of cheap booze wrapping itself around me; I try not to gag. I can’t look at her, I already know the face she’s making. An intense mixture of anger and drunken sorrow, her gaunt face scrunched up so much her eyes might pop out. I don’t respond to her, whatever I say, she wouldn’t want to listen. 

She slams an empty bottle on the table and begins to scream at me with an incoherent mess of gibberish. I can make out a few words through her drunken rant: “useless,” “spineless,” the usual insults. I still couldn’t look at her, for fear that I may anger her more. My body shakes a little, and I can’t push off the feeling of wanting to grab the glass shards off the floor and slit my throat. I’m scared and I want to run, but I can’t. Before my body starts to tremble, my Mother runs out of breath and points towards the ground.

“Clean up after yourself and then go to your room.”

She stumbles away and goes to the living room, gawking at the TV until her husband comes home. I snatch some rags from the kitchen drawer and wipe up the soup. I inspect the kitchen; a pig's den filled with takeout bags and trash. As much as I would like to leave it like this, to have my parents living with squalor, I choose not to. They are my parents, and I am obligated to help them.

When the kitchen resembles a decent living space, I creep back to my room and lock the door. I am always displeased with the state of my room, but I don’t bother to make it any better. Empty cans and plastic bags overrun the ground, and mold growth seizes the corners of my room. Luckily there are no bugs, the spiders take care of that. They leave me alone, and they don’t bite. Despite how they look, they treat me kindly, or as kindly a spider can treat you. It is much more than I deserve. I wasn’t always this pathetic. I’m not saying I was any better before, but I at least kept myself presentable.  

I move aside some trash bags and crash in my futon, crawling and forming myself into a fetal position. I gaze at the endless night sky outside my window. I am reminded of my sister, who would sit with me in the backyard. Sometimes we talked about our day, but mostly we sat in silence and embraced the view. I wasn’t liked by most people, much less loved, I always kept to myself, but Hana was different. She knew how to make people love her. She could start a conversation with someone and after a few minutes. They’d spill every little detail to her as if she were their closest friend. Her fame and popularity only made people treat me worse, but I never hated her for it. Despite everything, she was the only one who loved me. But those days came to an end when she fell ill. We still don’t know what disease she had. But, after months in the hospital, the doctors said she needed an organ transplant. The only matching donor who could offer it in time was me. I swear I was ready to give her anything.  I remember the day the doctor sat me and my parents down in his office. He told me that the procedure had a thirty percent fatality rate for us. My parents were surprised but reassured me that the odds weren't so bad. They were expecting a yes, everyone was expecting a yes, and that’s what I gave them. The procedure was supposed to happen a month later, and Hana was supposed to live. But I got into an accident while crossing the street. My body was broken, and I was taken off the donor list. Instead of preparing for surgery, we prepared for a funeral. My parents still blame me for Hana’s death. 

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Bzzzt

The sound of a fly buzzing pass drags me out of the loop. I see it trailing across my room until it is unluckily caught in the webs in my ceiling. It struggles, but two long legs reach out from the dark. They feel the vibrations in the web and make their way towards the helpless fly. The spider taps their legs around them and weaves a cage until their dinner is completely covered. The spiders are pretty ugly, but they are the only things that resemble any protection. It’s not much, but when you have nothing, it means everything. I divert my attention away from the spider and get up to put on a movie. It is rude to spy on them while they are eating. As I am about to put a disk in the CD player, I hear a familiar set of loud footsteps growing in volume. My Mother slams on my door and swings it open. Rubbish is flying in my face, and as I remove a plastic bag a hand reaches and grabs my wrist. 

“What do you think you are doing huh?” 

I’m lost, I don’t know what she wants from me. I try prying her fingers off my wrist but she’s clutching me like a bird of prey.

“I never ask you for anything, I never need you for anything, yet you insist on reminding me that you lived, not her. What? Want to act like a daughter now? You want to help now?” Her hot breath smells like vomit and liquor. I try to move away, but she keeps pulling me closer to her. I’m trembling and I can’t breathe. 

"You're a stupid, useless, brat. I want you gone, I want you gone from my life! Don’t you understand that? I don’t want you. I never wanted you. So why do you keep reminding me that you're still here?”

She’s clenching my wrist so hard it's piercing my skin. 

“Why? Why won’t you say anything? Say something? Look at me, Look!” I tilt up my head to see the face of a woman who does not see me as human. Her eyes are almost crimson red, and her face holds no resemblance to a human. A face that frightens me because I know there's not an ounce of pity or love. She despises me with every bone and fiber in her body.

“Let me go!” I pull her arm away, and I stumble backward through my window. I suddenly feel my heart drop as I begin to fall. I’m so scared, I want something to catch me, please, anything. The wind rushes against my back. I want to scream, but nothing comes out. Everything I’ve done, every choice I made, it meant nothing. I don’t want to die, please, I don’t want to die for nothing. 

I keep my eyes closed, for as long as possible. There is a slight tinge of pain spread across my entire being. Then a moment of cold embrace, as if I am floating in water. I keep my eyes closed until a bright light flashes on me. I think I will face judgment. But, I open my eyes to a small cabin. In it are men and women in cloaks and tunics.

“Congratulations, it’s a girl!”