Dead Girls Don't Cry
Agatha Christie · Completed · 5.6k Words
Introduction
My parents fussed over their adopted daughter Mia's red eyes. All this drama over a scratch on her finger.
My phone lay shattered in blood at the abandoned chemical plant downtown, screen flickering weakly.
I was already dead. The kidnappers had snapped my limbs and set me on fire.
I hovered above them, watching them lose their minds over Mia's fake tears while cursing my name and wishing I'd disappear forever.
Three days later, when cops knocked on Sterling Manor's door with a charred engagement ring, they finally got what they wanted.
Chapter 1
"Olivia, get back here and apologize to Mia RIGHT NOW, or we're through!" My fiancé Arthur screamed into his phone in the ER hallway, his face twisted in disgust.
My parents fussed over their adopted daughter Mia's red eyes. All this drama over a scratch on her finger.
My phone lay shattered in blood at the abandoned chemical plant downtown, screen flickering weakly.
I was already dead. The kidnappers had snapped my limbs and set me on fire.
I hovered above them, watching them lose their minds over Mia's fake tears while cursing my name and wishing I'd disappear forever.
Three days later, when cops knocked on Sterling Manor's door with a charred engagement ring, they finally got what they wanted.
Olivia's POV
"DOCTOR! Get over here! She's hurt!"
In the ER, my usually composed father Richard was yelling at the nurses' station.
Mother Elizabeth held the girl tight against her chest. "It's okay, sweetheart. Mama's got you."
My fiancé Arthur Winston gripped Mia's uninjured hand, glaring at the medical staff.
"If there's so much as a MARK left on her hand, I'll sue this place into the ground!" Arthur's voice was deadly calm.
The ER doctor hurried over and carefully unwound the silk scarf wrapped around Mia's hand. Under the bright lights, everyone could see the "injury" clearly.
A tiny scratch, maybe an inch long. Already scabbed over.
"It's just a minor abrasion. Some antiseptic and a bandage will do fine."
"Are you KIDDING me?" Richard exploded. "Do you have any idea who this is? Mia Sterling is a world-class cellist! What if it scars? What if it gets infected? I want every test you've got, and I want her in your best private room RIGHT NOW!"
I floated above them, watching this pathetic show.
Yeah, I was floating. Because I was dead.
I'm Olivia Sterling—the real daughter who went missing fifteen years ago. While I was gone, they adopted Mia and gave her everything that should've been mine.
Now here they were, losing their shit over a paper cut.
"Arthur..." Mia's voice wavered. "Please don't be mad at Olivia. She didn't mean it... She was just upset about the engagement party. I shouldn't have worn that necklace—"
"Stop defending her!" Arthur cut her off, his face hard as stone. "Olivia's certifiably INSANE. Street trash who doesn't know her place. She knew damn well you have Lincoln Center next week, and she still shoved you into that glass!"
"Bringing her back was the biggest mistake of my life," Elizabeth muttered, dabbing at her eyes. "Nothing but trouble from day one."
Their words hit me like ice water, but honestly? I felt nothing anymore.
Here's what actually happened: Mia lured me to the parking garage, claiming she had some of Grandma's jewelry for me. The second I got close, she grabbed a shard of glass and sliced her own finger. Then she started screaming bloody murder.
Arthur and my parents came running. Arthur backhanded me so hard I hit the concrete. My head cracked against a pillar, blood everywhere.
Did anyone check if I was okay? Hell no. They scooped up precious Mia and raced to the hospital.
Left me bleeding on that garage floor.
When I finally got up to leave, a black van pulled up. Three guys in masks dragged me inside and drove me to some abandoned factory on the outskirts of town.
"She's still not answering," Mia said, trying to look worried. But I caught that little smirk.
Arthur pulled out his phone with a disgusted grunt. "Probably hiding somewhere feeling sorry for herself. Typical."
He hit my number.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
No answer, obviously.
Arthur's jaw tightened as he left a voicemail: "Listen up, you psychotic BITCH. Get your ass down here in the next thirty minutes and apologize to Mia on your KNEES, or we're done. You hear me? DONE."
Send.
While he ranted, my mind went back to that warehouse.
They'd used crowbars on my legs until the bones snapped like twigs. Blood soaked through my dress as jagged white bone poked through skin.
My phone had been knocked a few feet away. When it lit up with Arthur's call, I tried crawling toward it, leaving a trail of blood and torn fingernails.
"Help... please... somebody..."
Right when I almost reached it, a steel-toed boot crushed my hand. Five fingers, broken in one stomp.
"Nice try, sweetheart." The guy raised his crowbar and brought it down on my skull.
Everything went black. Last thing I saw was them dousing me in gasoline.
"Boss wants it clean. No evidence."
A match flicked to life.
That voicemail Arthur just sent? It's sitting in my blood-soaked phone right now, the screen cracked and melting in the flames.
"She's ignoring us on purpose," Richard said with a sneer. "Fine. Let the little brat starve. She'll come crawling back soon enough."
"Come on, let's get Mia home." Elizabeth smoothed Mia's hair. "This place is too loud for her."
They headed for the exit, clustering around Mia like bodyguards.
Some invisible force dragged me along behind them.
I looked down at my see-through hands and let out a bitter laugh.
Come crawling back?
Sorry to disappoint you, Dad. Mom. Arthur.
The daughter you're waiting for? The fiancée you want begging?
She's never coming back.
Ever.
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