They Celebrated My Killer Sister While I Died

Chapter One

My brother Jack was going through my stuff again.

"Mia, I know you're throwing a tantrum, but game's over. Sophie needs this hairpin to match her dress tonight. You'd better show up quick and give it to her."

I reached out to grab Jack's arm, to tell him to stop, to stop going through my things.

My hand went straight through him.

Cold fear swallowed me instantly.

I looked down at my hand—translucent, like mist in sunlight.

I tried to touch Jack again, tried to push him, tried to shake his shoulders.

Nothing happened.

I finally accepted the fact that I was dead.

Not finding what he wanted, Jack called me several times and left voice messages: "Stop throwing your tantrum. You have to make the celebration cake for Sophie. The party starts at eight. Mom says if you don't show up, she'll kick you out of this house."

Jack got more and more frustrated searching. Finally, his eyes landed on my desk.

My diary lay there, the lock already opened, pages spread out.

He walked over, frowning at my handwriting: "100th disappointment..." He flipped through a few pages. "99th disappointment... 98th disappointment... What the hell? Who keeps track of boring stuff like this?"

If only he could understand.

If any of them could understand that each number represented a moment they chose Sophie over me, another forgotten birthday, another ignored achievement.

Jack impatiently closed the diary. The combination lock clicked shut automatically.

Some secrets are meant to stay buried.

Sophie's voice came: "Mom! Where's the hairpin? Jack said he was getting it!"

"I'm looking!" Jack said. "Mia's hiding somewhere!"

"Check her jewelry box. I bet it's in there," Sophie said.

Sure enough, Jack found the hairpin in the jewelry box.

He took the hairpin to Sophie, then came downstairs angrily and announced to our parents: "Mia's throwing another tantrum. She's not in her room and won't answer her phone."

"I'm really sick of this attitude," Dad said without looking up. "If she wants to sulk, let her. She should learn her lesson."

"She's always been jealous of Sophie," Mom chimed in, her voice full of disappointment. "Maybe it's better this way. At least Sophie can enjoy her celebration party in peace without dealing with her sister's jealousy."

As if summoned by their conversation, I felt myself drifting toward Sophie's room.

"Such an old-fashioned style doesn't match my dress at all today. Trash belongs in the trash can." She was breaking my hairpin.

"Sophie, don't—" I tried to stop her, but it was too late.

Snap. The hairpin broke.

I felt my heart break with it. This was the only gift Mom had ever given me.

Sophie sat on her pristine white bed and started messaging me.

[Hey Mia, I just wanted to ask... how did it feel when they were inside you? Did you enjoy it? Oh, and by the way, I recorded the whole thing. Every single second. So you better shut up and do as you're told, or everyone will see what a pathetic slut you are.]

Reading those words, my heart completely shattered.

Even after death, Sophie wouldn't let me go.

But then she deleted the message and retyped: [Mia, I'm really worried about you! Please come home safe. I love you so much and just want to make sure you're okay. Your little sister needs you!]

She sent this message and immediately took a screenshot, probably to show our parents what a thoughtful, caring sister she was.

Within minutes, Mom was gushing about how sweet and grown-up Sophie was.

All I could do was smile bitterly.

Today was the anniversary of Sophie winning first place in piano. They were throwing a huge celebration for her.

But today was also my birthday.

While I was in the kitchen getting my own birthday cake ready, about to ask if they wanted to celebrate with me, I was dragged up to the attic by a couple of guys who said they were Sophie's friends.

They assaulted me, no matter how much I struggled and screamed for help.

When I fought back, one of them hit the corner of a table, and his forehead bled.

They got even angrier and slammed my head hard against the wall. I heard the sound of my skull cracking, felt warm blood running down my cheeks.

With my last bit of strength before dying, I dialed home.

"Help me... please..." I said weakly.

"Mia, stop it. We're busy preparing for Sophie's party. If you want attention, find another way." Mom hung up.

I called Dad, called Jack, and even called Sophie.

Everyone thought I was lying, ruining Sophie's special day.

I died like that in the attic, and they still didn't know.

They probably wouldn't find out I was really gone until my body started to rot and the smell got too strong to ignore.