Daan huffed as he crawled up the stairs. His shirt clung damply to his skin. Ever since the smiling man took his mother’s eyes, he hated soccer practice. The only reason he still went every week was because of the wish. Soon, he could make his wish. He didn’t want to be kicked off of the team before then.

The boy knocked on the apartment numbered three-nine-five, and a second passed before the door creaked open by itself. The living room was completely empty, and even the giant spectre who usually patrolled was missing. Churning wails seeped from the bedroom, and, with a shiver, Daan realized he couldn’t hear his mother’s voice among them. The boy grit his teeth, rushing to the bedroom. “Mom!”

The woman sat quietly on Melissa’s bed. Her shirt was stained with vomit. Her stare extended far beyond the bedroom walls, and watery blood pooled in the corners of her eyes, threatening to cascade into crimson teardrops.

Daan focused his gaze onto the shadowy wisps surrounding her, revealing the spectres’ true forms. He paled. They had fused onto every inch of his mother’s skin, enveloping everything but her face. The mass of limbs and flesh wept, mirroring the emotions hidden within Charlotte’s gaunt expression.

“Are you okay?” Clearly, she wasn’t. Daan snapped his fingers to draw her attention. Once upon a time, his mother claimed she had miraculously tamed all the spectres at home, whatever that meant. She told him those words after she gave those spectres to him as a birthday gift last spring, and he remembered how little that eased his doubts. Now, Daan wasn’t sure if the ‘tamed’ spectres were tame anymore.

Above her, the giant who usually patrolled the living room gurgled violently. The man’s bloated purple skin cracked like sun-baked mud, releasing a dizzily potent scent of rose. Because of the smell, Charlotte called him the rose man. It was by far the most grotesque of the bunch, and even now he couldn’t help but squint a little. Luckily, it didn’t seem aggressive now, which was a relief. Last time that happened, Charlotte practically dragged him out the door.

Charlotte turned to him, her eyes swollen with tears. “I shouldn’t have said that to her. I made a mistake. Now she’s gone.” As she spoke, the spectres around her clawed deeper into her skin. He recognized how they writhed with self-hatred. Another way his mother was different from him, or from anyone else he knew, was her high affinity to the dead. Her emotions affected spectres to a level that normal people couldn’t imagine, so when she got mad, really mad, like when the smiling man showed up to their house to take her eyes… Even though she didn’t look angry back then, the air shimmered.

Daan wasn’t used to seeing Charlotte so upset. She wasn’t quite angry, just upset, aimed solely toward herself. That’s why the spectres clung to her skin instead of lashing out around her. The stench of rose made his vision swirl, and the sweetness soon morphed into rot. “Mom, calm down! The rose—” he coughed, his eyes watering uncontrollably. The rose man’s skin split further, blooming into virulent pink flesh underneath. The stench soon grew unbearable. Daan tapped the wall, trying to warn his mother he was about to faint.

Charlotte’s lips trembled, lowering into the faintest frown. Her gaze refocused. She brushed away the hazy flesh on her arm. “I’m fine now, everyone. Thanks for worrying about me.” She wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Shoo.” The air lightened as shadows shed from her body like snakeskin. The rose man let out an unintelligible moan as he shambled back into the living room, and Daan panted for breath as the air around them turned clear again. The reason why he wasn’t too afraid of spectres was because of his mother. With a single word, she had somehow forced them to obey her, even the rose man. Despite everything she taught him, she never explained how she could do that.

Charlotte spent a moment wiping away her tears. “Thanks, baby. Something bad happened. She ran away.”

Daan glanced around him. “Melissa,” he realized. Teddy was limp on the other bed, lifeless, but Melissa was nowhere to be found. “Where did Melissa go?”

“I don’t know,” Charlotte said. “She ran away. I couldn’t stop her.” Her hands rose to her clouded blue eyes. “It’s all my fault.”

“No, it isn’t your fault,” Daan reassured her. He didn’t know if it was his mother’s fault or not, but he knew not to ask right now. The boy leaned over to hug her, but the vomit on her shirt decided against that. He patted her back instead. He was used to the rose man, so the stench didn’t phase him much.

They sat there in silence, as if waiting for something to happen. The more time Daan had to think, the more he worried about Melissa. What exactly made her run away? He imagined the girl sprinting down the road, her eyes darting across the unfamiliar streets. For an instant, Daan was angry at his mother. How could she let Melissa run away like that? Then he realized how stupid his thoughts were. There was nothing his mother could have done if Melissa decided to run away.

Charlotte froze. “She might’ve gone back,” she blurted. The woman pointed at Teddy. “This idiot just said so.” Teddy was sprawled on his bed sheets, utterly limp. “Why are you crying now?” Charlotte snapped. “Be quiet already. Wailing on and on! You’re an idiot, you know. Seriously, what made you say that to her?”

Daan stood up, ignoring whatever feud his mother had with Teddy, whose voice he couldn’t hear. “You mean Melissa went back to her old apartment? I’ll see if she’s there.”

Charlotte turned toward him. Part of his chest stung as she forced another smile. “Thanks, baby. I don’t know what I would do without you.” The woman paused, as if she wanted to add something else. “So stay safe.”

Melissa basked in the familiar, stuffy air, wheezing for breath underneath her blankets. For some reason, she was here again. Her old home, laid in her old bed. She liked it here. The air in Daan’s home was clean, and it didn’t smell weird. It wasn’t bad, but she didn’t like it, either.

The girl wondered why she wasn’t crying. Her throat felt like it was stuffed with gravel, but her breaths shivered in silence. She had run away from Charlotte and crawled into her old bed, but, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t run away from Teddy’s screams. She could still hear those shrieks, lashing into her skin. Teddy’s voice became her father, and she didn’t know if Teddy was lying or not.

Her mother failed to feed her. Teddy was right. Melissa had never felt full a day in her life, not until Daan gave her potato chips. Looking back, there was always that hunger she hated, and mommy never could do anything about it.

Her mother failed to protect her. Teddy was right. Melissa remembered when her father pinned her wrists with his hand one day and slapped her until she couldn’t see. That was a long time ago. She forgot what exactly she did, but by the second slap, her mother was screaming something, pulling his arm away. Then he broke mommy’s face, and she never pulled his arm again.

Her mother never loved her, Teddy said. But that wasn’t true. It was one thing to say her mother didn’t feed her and never did a thing to protect her, but Melissa just couldn’t accept that her mother never loved her. If her mother never loved her, what was the point of existing in this world? And wasn’t it Teddy who used to say her mother always loved her so much and never wanted to leave her behind?

For some reason, Teddy was lying this time. Teddy had to be lying. Melissa didn’t have a reason for it; she just knew she was right.

A warmth spread through the girl’s body as she realized her newfound freedom. She didn’t have to think so hard anymore about who was lying and who wasn’t. She could just believe in anything she wanted to. So since she wanted her father to be dead, it was true, just like all her hunger and pain, all gone, just like that. And when she wished for her mother back, everything would be happy again because her mother always loved her, because it had to be true. She didn’t have to listen to anything Teddy said ever again, or anyone else she didn’t like listening to, because all of them would be lying.

The girl imagined a letter in her hands, like the one she wrote for her pen pal assignment in class a week ago. The letter was filled with all the words Teddy screamed at her earlier. Most of the words were big and grown up because Teddy was screaming.

Ka-chunk. Her stamp made the same noise as the teacher’s.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

LIAR, printed in bold, block red.

Melissa knew what she would do when she got back. When she returned, she’d hand the paper back to Teddy. The homework was to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Redo it, she’d say, and Teddy would cry because she tried really hard to lie, but she got caught. ‘Don’t you know lying is bad?’ and then she’d stomp Teddy in the throat to teach her a lesson.

Melissa curled into her blanket. Her breath raced into a whirl, and she felt a burst of something she had never felt before. Something more than happy. She had just realized the truth. She sheared off her covers, tumbling off her ragged mattress. The wooden floorboards cracked hello, and she hello-ed back.

Her footsteps tap-tapped for the door. She wanted to share everything she had learned, and she especially wanted to call Teddy stupid for lying all the time. Melissa loved Teddy, but boy, Teddy sure was a bad egg. Teddy was so bad that Melissa wasn’t even sure why she loved her anymore.

She barely reached the doorknob before the door swung open. Daan crashed into her hard, and they both hurt for a second.

The girl backed away, stared at Daan, then tumbled forward into his arms. She hugged him tight, and Daan tensed up.

Daan opened his mouth, but he couldn’t speak. The boy was completely lost for words. He had prepared an entire speech to convince Melissa to return, accounting for every response under the sun. Crying, screaming, punching and kicking, even quiet sleeping. Everything except for this. The girl butted his chest, pressing her smile onto his shirt. He had never seen her so happy before.

Daan’s lips twitched. Slowly, his hand reached to pat her head. He felt her breath through his shirt, and the patch of heat grew like sunlight. “You’re good now?”

“All good,” Melissa replied.

The bad egg didn’t speak for the entire day, probably because it lied. Melissa couldn’t punish her until later. Charlotte was nice, but she lied too—she lied about Teddy being mommy.

Charlotte was lying because Melissa said so.

See? How easy was that?

After Melissa came back, Charlotte needed to pass out on the bed. Daan stayed with her in the living room. Teddy, whose new name was now Bad Egg, was dead on the couch and didn’t speak to her no matter what. The only way Melissa knew Bad Egg wasn’t actually dead was every five seconds, when she sniffled and sobbed again. Bad Egg was a bad name. Teddy sure liked to cry.

Daan looked at her. She smiled, but he didn’t. “What happened?” he asked. He kept asking her that question, like he needed to know everything that happened in her life. Honestly, Melissa was bored of it.

“Nothing,” she said. She wiggled on the couch, finding herself buried comfortably inside the cushions.

Daan watched her warily. Some time passed before the topic of what happened faded from the conversation. “You shouldn’t go, Melissa. The festival. Do you even know when it is?”

Melissa sat up. “I don’t.”

“See?” Daan poked her forehead. “You aren’t prepared. I thought so the moment you said you wanted to go.”

“I’m going,” she said.

Daan stared at her, mystified. Teddy trembled. She was still crying, and maybe she was crying louder now. Melissa couldn’t tell.

“It’s tomorrow, Melissa. No one’s told you? I’ve been preparing for months, but you…” His voice trailed away as Melissa began to count on her fingers. The girl debated how many fingers to raise. What counted as preparing?

“One day,” Melissa concluded. She had prepared for one hour of one day. She could see the blobs now, but that was it.

Daan frowned, and he almost looked angry. “Then you can’t go. You’ll die. Look around, can’t you see them?” He pointed at the giant blob next to them, a hazy black fog. “There’s a billion more of them over there. The only reason we’re safe here is because of my mom.”

Melissa nodded.

“So you shouldn’t go. You’ll die.”

“I can’t die,” Melissa replied. That was her truth, and she believed in it with all her heart. She couldn’t die. Not before she made her wish. She believed it, so it was true.

Daan closed his mouth with a clop. He patted the girl’s head, and he didn’t speak again for a while. Melissa used the silence to stare at the biggest blob again. Was it her imagination, or did the fog turn a shade of purple? A scent of sick sweetness tingled her nose.

The boy stood from the couch. “You’re looking at him, right? If you want to prepare, keep staring until you can see his face,” Daan said, getting up to leave.

The bedroom door shut behind him, leaving Melissa alone with Teddy and the blobs.

Melissa turned to Teddy. “Festival is tomorrow,” she said. She relished the sound of the words on her tongue, gloating their punctuality.

Teddy jolted, struck by lightning. Don’t go, Melissa. You can’t wish for your mother back. It’s impossible, Melissa. That monster was lying! Will you still go if the wish doesn’t work? Please Melissa, use some common sense!

Melissa stared at Teddy. A half smile crossed her lips as she imagined a stamp in her hand. Ka-chunk. “Liar.” She looked at Teddy the way the principal looked at her whenever she was in his office. Her lips pulled taut into a smirk, but her eyes were ice. Teddy was lying because Melissa said so.

Teddy paused, instantly changing her approach. Okay, then your mother doesn’t care about being brought back. She just wants you to be safe, Melissa. Don’t you think so too? She doesn’t want you to go. She wants you to stay with Charlotte and be happy. Don’t you like talking with Daan? And don’t you want a new family? A new family and a better mommy? Teddy’s voice was barely a whisper.

New family? Melissa wanted to laugh, or maybe cry. Teddy thought she wanted a new family?

Teddy couldn’t be more wrong. “I’m going. I’m going and I don’t want a new family. I want mommy back.” Melissa squeezed her eyes shut. “I want mommy to sing again. I want mommy to hug me but she can’t. Mommy’s dead because daddy killed her.” Her lip trembled. She didn’t cry this time, because all her tears were already gone.

Teddy’s breath shuddered.

Oh god. I’m so sorry, honey. You only wanted her back, but I was always with you. Don’t you remember the first time Teddy spoke to you? Mommy went away that day because daddy hurt her, but she wanted to stay with you forever and that’s why she became Teddy. I’m sorry for screaming. I’ll never scream at you again. I thought—I thought maybe you’d change your mind and you wouldn’t go anymore. I don’t want you to go. I love you. I’m sorry for hurting you. For everything. Don’t go. Don’t go. I’m still here. I was always here for you. Mommy loves you.

“Liar.” Ka-chunk. Then, the girl blinked. “Well, mommy did always love me. But you can’t be mommy.”

Why?

Teddy’s voice was brittle black. The sound of a soul, cracking into pieces.

“Because I said so,” Melissa replied airily.

Why? Teddy repeated. Whatever life remaining in her voice slowly drained away, leaving behind an empty husk. I told you everything this time. Melissa. Please. I’m sorry. I love you.

Melissa pursed her lips. “But you hate mommy. You said mommy deserved to die. That’s why you aren’t.”

I wish I never said that. I was so stupid. I promise I’ll never hurt you again.

Melissa mulled over what Teddy said about her mother back then. All those screams amounted to something, Melissa was sure of it. Something was wrong, bubbling in her stomach. “But Teddy—” Her mother deserved to die? A current of red rushed in her ears, drumming in her chest. “You said mommy deserved to die,” Melissa whispered. Her mind couldn’t move past those words, echoing in her mind, over and over again. That meant Teddy was happy her mother was in the freezer. Happy she was dead. Frozen in a million pieces. Ka-chunk.

I love you.

“Mommy didn’t deserve to die. You just wanted mommy to die. You just wanted to kill her like daddy.” Melissa realized the truth.

I didn’t! Teddy's voice was a strange mix of a whimper and a scream.

Melissa snatched Teddy’s arm. She stood from the couch, weighing the toy in her arms. She raised it above her head. The stench of rose and rot bloomed in front of her, but she didn’t notice. “Then you can go die, Teddy.”

Teddy hiccuped.

Melissa flung the toy onto the floor. It bounced once before rolling on the ground. The girl raised her foot. “Don’t you know! Lying is bad!” She emphasized each word with a stomp on Teddy’s neck, just like her imagination said she would.

A sick satisfaction filled her chest like glue as Teddy lay helpless beneath her feet. The girl pressed her weight down, grinding her shoe against its stuffing. Teddy was pleading like she always did to protect Melissa when her father was mad, though it never worked, not even now, now that she was the one getting hit. Teddy said ‘Please don’t hurt her,’ but this time it was ‘me’ instead of ‘her’ and Teddy was screaming and sobbing terribly. Because this time it was please don’t hurt me with so many exclamation points, shrieked over and over like her mind was being torn apart from its seams. But Melissa pretended she couldn’t hear anything and kept hurting her anyway.

The girl backed away. Without realizing it, her skin was covered in hazy black fog, writhing to the tune of her rage.

And Teddy's stitched smile stared back at her, stained forever again.