After my sister was born, everything in our house was decided by casting the Runes. Whether I could eat at the table, whether I got new clothes—it all depended on the Runes. Every time, I tossed "Cursed." My sister always tossed "Blessed." Whenever I cried from hunger, Mom would look at me with disappointment. "The Spirits are fair. This is Providence." "Your fate is cheap. Don't blame others. Your dad and I are just following the will of the Spirits." So I practiced. I knelt before the altar for ten years, trying to beg for a little love. But I never won. Not once. On Christmas Eve, snow was falling heavily. I wanted to go inside to get warm. Mom made me cast the Runes again. I secretly tried to flip the "Cursed" rune with my finger. She stomped on my hand, breaking my finger, and called me a blasphemer. She locked me out in the cold, wearing only a thin shirt. I curled up in the snow, the cold freezing my heart. Sorry, Mom. In my next life, I'll make the Spirits like me. Chapter 1 The moment my soul left my body, I felt incredibly light. Finally, I didn't have to hear the sound of those two red wooden blocks hitting the floor anymore. I floated in mid-air, looking down at my body curled up in the snow. My fingers were twisted—Mom stomped on them last night. Ice hung from my face; my eyelashes were covered in frost. Morning came. The sound of Christmas bells rang out. The heavy front door opened. Mom walked out wearing a brand new cashmere coat, her face beaming with joy. She held a basin of dirty dishwater, humming a carol. When she saw the black lump at the door, her singing stopped. Splash. The water drenched my corpse. "It's Christmas morning! Are you trying to bring me bad luck?" "Hazel! Get up!" The water froze instantly upon touching my body. I didn't move. Disgust overflowed from Mom's eyes. She lifted her booted foot and kicked my lower back hard. "Stop playing dead! I didn't let you in last night, and now you're pulling this pity stunt?" "I'm telling you, the Spirits are watching. A girl with a crooked heart like you deserves to freeze!" That kick was heavy. If I were alive, I would have curled up in pain and begged for mercy. But now, I just rolled over stiffly. Like a hard log. Mom paused, then sneered even colder. "Fine. You've gotten tough. Your bones are hard now." "Trying to force me to soften up? To let you in?" "Dream on!" Just then, my sister Luna ran out in a pink princess dress. She held the pair of "Runes," polished smooth by years of use. "Mommy, is Hazel hiding her face because she tossed 'Cursed' last night?" "Sister is so rude. Making Mommy angry on Christmas." Mom's face changed instantly to a smile. She squatted down to fix Luna's scarf. "Luna is the good girl. Your sister is just ignorant." "Look at her, lying at the door like a beggar on such a big day." Luna blinked her big eyes, staring at my corpse with pure malice. "Mommy, if guests come and see Hazel blocking the door, it's bad luck." "What if she blocks the blessing of wealth?" Mom's face changed. She was superstitious about money. "Right. Can't let her block our fortune." Mom grabbed one of my legs with disgust. My body was frozen solid; the joints wouldn't bend. She dragged me. My head bumped against the steps with a dull thud. But Mom didn't notice. She dragged me all the way to the dilapidated woodshed in the corner of the yard. She threw me onto the dusty, coal-stained floor. Mom stood at the door, looking at me with disdain. "Since you want to sleep, sleep all you want!" "Without my permission, if you dare take a step out of this door, I'll break your legs!" "Unless you toss 'Blessed,' you can rot in here!" The woodshed door slammed shut. Locked. I floated in the air, watching the woman I called Mom for over ten years turn and leave. Without a backward glance. She didn't even notice that during the dragging... The finger she broke last night had snapped off and fallen into the snow. That was the masterpiece she left behind while "following Providence." I looked at the severed finger and suddenly wanted to laugh. This time, I was really obedient. I would never take a step out of this door again. Chapter 2 The woodshed leaked wind from all sides. It wasn't much warmer than outside. My body lay twisted on the coal pile. Through the thin wall, the heat from the house was blasting. The TV played cheerful Christmas songs. That was the warmth I craved most, but could never be part of. "Dinner time!" Dad's voice rang out. "Luna, come quick! It's your favorite roast turkey." I floated into the house. The table was full of food. Roast turkey, glazed ham, mashed potatoes. All things I loved but never got to eat. In this house, what we ate was decided by the Spirits. Mom said it was for fairness. But every time it was my turn, the red wooden blocks seemed cursed. Always two convex sides up—"Cursed." The Spirits forbade it. But Luna always got one flat, one convex—"Blessed." Great fortune. So, I ate leftovers or plain bread. Luna ate steak and shrimp. "Mommy, isn't Hazel eating?" Luna asked with her mouth full of turkey. She did it on purpose. She knew how to trigger Mom. Sure enough, Mom slammed her fork down. "Why mention that bad luck charm? Ruins my appetite!" "She's reflecting in the woodshed. She can come out when she learns her lesson." Dad sipped his wine and said casually: "It's Christmas. Maybe we shouldn't starve her? She is the oldest." Mom snorted and took the pair of Runes from the altar. "Fine. I'll give her a chance." "If the Spirits agree, I'll send her a plate." Mom put her hands together and chanted. "Spirits above, Hazel is stubborn. If she truly repents, grant her a meal." She dropped the blocks. Clack. One flat, one convex. Blessed! The Spirits agreed! My dead heart actually skipped a beat. Even though I was dead and didn't need to eat. But this might be the first time in my life I "won." But the next second, Mom's face turned ugly. She stared at the Runes on the floor. Then, she extended her foot and gently kicked one of the blocks. The block that was flat side up flipped over. Convex side up. Cursed. Mom smiled with satisfaction. "See, Earl?" "It's not me starving her. Even the Spirits think she hasn't repented." "This is Providence." Dad didn't even look at the floor. He put a piece of ham in his mouth. "If it's Providence, then there's nothing we can do." "Let her starve. She'll behave after a few skipped meals." I floated in the air, watching this, crying desperate tears. I must have seen it wrong. How could Mom kick it on purpose? She feared the Spirits the most. It must have been an accident. I was so sad. Just a little bit more, and I could have eaten the dinner Mom cooked. I tried desperately to flip the block back, but my hands passed through it again and again. Mom, don't be mad. It's just my bad luck. If I were luckier, would you love me then? "Mommy, I want to turn Hazel's room into my walk-in closet," Luna said suddenly. "I have too many dresses. My closet is full." My room was small, but it faced the sun. Grandma fought for it for me before she died. It was my only sanctuary in this house. Mom nodded without hesitation. "Sure. She seems to like living in the woodshed anyway." "A cheap life like hers... living in a sunny room is a waste of fortune." "After dinner, we'll throw her junk out." Luna cheered and kissed Mom. "Mommy is the best! Love you!" Mom beamed, eyes full of love. "Mommy loves Luna most. You are my lucky star." A happy family of three. And I was the outsider. No, I was always the outsider. Now, even that tiny room was gone. My body stiffened in the woodshed. My soul froze in the living room. Mom, if you knew I was dead... Would you still give my room to Luna? Or would you think, Great, saved money on a coffin. Just use the woodshed as a morgue. Chapter 3 In the afternoon, relatives arrived for the Christmas party. Aunt Carol looked around as she entered. "Hey? Where's Hazel?" "Doesn't she usually wait at the door to take coats?" I floated beside Aunt Carol. Every year, I had to wear that old, faded coat, standing at the door like a servant. If I was slow, I got beaten after the guests left. This year, I wasn't there. The entrance was messy with snowy footprints. Mom looked unnatural for a second. "That girl, getting more rebellious as she grows." "She talked back last night. Has a big temper. Locked herself in her room." "Ignore her. Let her starve." Aunt Carol frowned but said nothing. No one wanted to ruin the holiday mood. Luna walked out wearing my down jacket. I saved money for a whole year to buy that. Secretly. It was a cheap brand, but warm. Last night I begged Mom to let me wear it because it was freezing. Mom said: "Let the Runes decide." Result: Cursed. So I was kicked out in a thin shirt. Now, Luna wore it. It was too big for her. But she was proud. "Merry Christmas, Auntie!" Luna smiled sweetly, reaching out for gifts. Aunt Carol handed her a thick red envelope. "Luna is so good. Prettier every year." Luna took the money, then pouted, eyes red. "Auntie, actually... Hazel isn't angry." "She's just too ashamed to come out." The room went quiet. Mom paused. "Luna, what are you saying?" Luna looked down, acting like she was scared to speak. "This morning, I saw Hazel steal the money Dad left on the coffee table." "I told her to put it back, but she hit me." "She hid because she's afraid you'll find out." I stared at Luna in shock. I saw Luna steal that money this morning and put it in her own schoolbag. Now, she was framing a dead person. Dad stood up abruptly. "What? She dared to steal money?" "Outrageous! I wondered where that $100 went!" Mom's face turned black. She cared about face the most in front of relatives. "That little thief! Dirty hands!" "I'm going to break her hands today!" Mom ran to the kitchen, grabbed a rolling pin, and marched out. Aunt Carol tried to stop her. "Agnes! It's Christmas! Don't hit the child!" Mom shook her off. "Don't stop me! This girl needs a lesson!" "Stealing at home? Next she'll be killing people!" "I'm doing the Spirits' work!" She rushed to the woodshed door and kicked it. "Hazel! Get out here!" "Hand over the money! Or I'll skin you alive!" Dust fell from the door. Inside, dead silence. No answer. Mom got angrier. She took out the key and unlocked it. "Fine. Playing deaf and dumb?" "Let's see how long you can act!" The door opened. Bitter cold air rushed out. Mom rushed in, raised the rolling pin, and smashed it onto the dark shape on the ground. Thud. The rolling pin hit my back. I watched my corpse bounce slightly from the impact. I felt only sadness. Mom, hit me. I'm dead anyway. It won't hurt anymore. Chapter 4 Mom hit me several times. Each blow was full force. A living person would have screamed and begged. But "I" on the ground didn't make a sound. Didn't even flinch. Mom finally stopped, panting. She felt something was wrong. "Hazel?" "Are you mute?" She poked my shoulder with the rolling pin. My body was hard, maintaining that twisted posture. Mom frowned. Anger turned to confusion. "Playing possum?" "Get up!" She bent down and grabbed my collar. The moment her hand touched my neck, she recoiled. Ice cold. Mom's face changed. She looked back at the relatives in the yard. Everyone was whispering. "Why isn't she moving?" "Did Agnes kill her?" For the sake of her reputation, Mom forced calmness. "It's fine. Stubborn girl. Acting." "She's cold because there's no heat in here." She turned her back to the crowd and hissed at me. "Hazel, I'm counting to three." "If you don't get up and apologize, don't ever come back inside!" "One!" "Two!" "Three!" I remained motionless. Mom was humiliated. She felt I was challenging her authority. "Fine. You have guts." "Since you like lying down, stay down forever!" She turned to leave and lock the door again. Just then, Dad walked over. He looked at the stiff figure in the shed, frowning deeply. "Agnes, something is wrong." "You hit her so hard, why didn't she move?" "And... that posture is too weird." Dad ignored me usually, but he had common sense. The angle of my legs wasn't a normal sleeping position. Mom waved impatiently. "What's wrong? She's just tough. Cheap life." "Faking it to scare us." Dad hesitated. "Maybe... call a doctor?" "If she really froze... it'll look bad." Mom exploded. "What doctor? On Christmas? Bad luck!" "And it costs money! She stole money and wants me to spend more?" "No way!" Uncle Ray, the village doctor who came to visit, walked over. He squinted at me in the shed. "Earl, Agnes." "Stop arguing." Uncle Ray's voice trembled. His finger pointing at the shed shook. "What?" Mom asked rudely. Uncle Ray took a deep breath. He walked into the shed, ignored Mom, and grabbed my wrist. His hand froze. He turned slowly to look at my parents. Eyes full of horror and disbelief. "Agnes, why are you still cursing?" "This child... has been gone for a long time!"
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