I was my mother's little "feeding doll." Whenever my younger sister refused to eat, my mom would put a freshly cooked meatball in my bowl. Once my sister started craving it, the meatball would be snatched away and fed to her instead. My mom always said, "Your sister is delicate. You’re the older sister, you need to be sensible." The year I turned eight, it was the last meatball again. My mom smiled and brought it to my lips. For some reason, as if possessed, I swallowed it whole. My mom slapped me hard across the face, knocking me out of my chair. "You act like a starving ghost! That was for your sister!" The back of my head slammed heavily against the corner of the table, and the world instantly went black. When I opened my eyes, I saw my mom holding my sister, speaking to her softly. "Don't cry. Your sister is bad, Mom will punish her." She didn't even glance at me lying on the floor. She just carried my sister out the door. "Kneel there and reflect on what you did. You can get up when you admit you were wrong." Slam. The door closed. I stood up from the floor, wanting to tell her I was wrong. But when I looked down, I saw that I was still kneeling there on the floor. Mom, this time, I really won't steal my sister's meatball ever again. ... The smell of braised pork was so rich it almost smelled bitter. I was kneeling on a dining chair, gripping the edge of the table. My stomach started growling again. Grrr— My sister, Lily, frowned and pushed her bowl away. "I'm not eating! The fat is disgusting!" The bowl clattered against the table, spilling a few grains of rice. My mom wasn't angry. She patiently picked up the spilled rice and put it back in the bowl. "This is organic pork from Grandma's farm. It's delicious." "I don't want it!" Lily started kicking her legs. My mom sighed and turned her attention to me. "Chloe." She picked up the last, largest braised meatball. The sauce dripped from the meatball onto the white rice. "This meatball smells so good. Does Chloe want it?" I nodded frantically, my mouth instantly filling with saliva. I hadn't had a proper meal in two days. Yesterday's leftover noodles were thrown in the trash because my mom said overnight food wasn't healthy. But I could have eaten them. I wanted to say I didn't care if it wasn't healthy. "You want it?" My mom brought the meatball to my lips, the hot steam hitting the tip of my nose. "Smells great, want a bite?" She was coaxing me, but her eyes darted toward Lily. Lily stopped kicking and stared intently at the meatball. It was hers. I knew it was hers. I knew the routine perfectly. I was supposed to open my mouth and pretend to take a bite. Then my mom would flick her wrist and pop the meatball into Lily's mouth. Lily would chew triumphantly and make faces at me. I would swallow my saliva and watch her finish it. This time was supposed to be the same. I opened my mouth, and the meatball touched my lips. It smelled so good. It really smelled so good. Before my brain could react, my teeth had already closed down. Chomp. A huge bite. I pulled the entire meatball into my mouth. I didn't chew; I just swallowed it straight down. The scalding hot meatball slid down my esophagus, burning my chest. But I didn't feel the pain. I just felt the hand that had been clawing at my stomach for two days finally let go. Lily was stunned. My mom was stunned too. The next second, a piercing scream shattered my eardrums. "WAAAAAH—!" Lily swept her bowl onto the floor, shattering the porcelain into pieces. "She ate my meat! That was mine!" My mom's face instantly twisted in rage. Smack! My cheek burned, and my ears rang. The taste of meat lingered in my mouth, now mixed with the metallic tang of blood. "Are you a starving ghost reincarnated?!" my mom screamed, pointing at my nose. "That was to stimulate your sister's appetite! Who told you to actually eat it?!" "Spit it out!" She reached out and dug her fingers into my mouth, her nails scratching my gums. But the meatball was already in my stomach. I couldn't spit it out. Lily cried even louder, rolling on the floor. "I don't want to live! My sister stole my food! I want KFC!" My mom was heartbroken. She pulled her fingers out of my mouth and turned to pick Lily up. As she turned, she saw me still sitting on the chair, looking dazed. With nowhere to vent her anger, she shoved me violently. "Get out of here! I'm sick of looking at you!" I was very light. I flew backward off the chair. Thud! A dull thud sounded as the back of my head struck the sharp corner of the solid wood dining table. Everything in front of me started to go dark. My mom's furious face, Lily's wide-open mouth, and the broken porcelain bowl on the floor. I slid down limply, my knees hitting the floor, my upper body slumped over, my head hanging low. Like I was apologizing. In the last second before I lost consciousness, my only thought was: That meatball was really delicious. 2 "Stop playing dead." My mom's voice came from very far away. "Every time you do something wrong, you pull this dead-weight act. Who is it for?" I opened my eyes and found myself standing next to the dining table. Weird, didn't I fall? I looked down, and there was another person on the floor. Wearing my ill-fitting, faded, washed-out school uniform. Kneeling on the floor, head almost touching the ground. Was that... me? I reached out to touch the me on the floor, but my hand passed right through. Am I dead? When that thought popped up, I surprisingly wasn't very scared. Instead, I felt a sense of relief. No more starving. No more walking on eggshells. My mom was comforting Lily. "Be a good girl, sweetheart. If you cry until your eyes are swollen, you won't be pretty anymore." "Your sister is bad, Mom will punish her." "Dad will be home soon. Let's have him take us to KFC." Lily sniffled, pointing at me on the floor. "Why isn't she moving?" My mom sneered. "Too ashamed to show her face. Stealing food, shameless." "Let her kneel. She can get up when she realizes she was wrong!" The door opened, and my dad walked in carrying his briefcase. "What's going on? I could hear the crying from the hallway." Lily threw herself into my dad's arms. "My sister stole my meatball!" "Mom hit her, and now she's just lying on the floor refusing to get up!" My dad frowned, glancing at me on the floor with impatience. "Is that it? Why make such a big deal out of it?" He walked over and nudged my calf with the toe of his shoe. "Get up. Stop embarrassing yourself!" I didn't move. My dad thought I was being stubborn and loosened his tie. "Fine, developing a temper, are we?" "If you don't want to get up, then keep kneeling. No dinner for you tonight." "Come on, let's go get KFC." Lily smiled through her tears. "I want a bucket, and I want ice cream too!" "Alright, whatever you want." The family of three put on their shoes and headed out. Slam! The security door closed, and the apartment fell silent, except for the ticking of the wall clock. Tick, tock, tick, tock. I floated in mid-air, looking at myself on the floor. The posture was awkward. The angle of my bent neck was too sharp. A tiny bit of blood oozed from the hair at the back of my head. Not much. It was hidden by my hair and ran down into my collar. No wonder they didn't see it. It was getting dark. The lights were off. My stomach wasn't growling anymore, but I still felt hungry. I wanted KFC too. I had never had it. Every time they went, they locked me in the apartment and left me two steamed buns. When Lily came back, she'd have ketchup on the corner of her mouth and intentionally breathe in my face. "Sister, the fried chicken smells so good. Too bad you can't have any." I floated over to the dining table. The bowl of white rice that had been knocked over was still there, along with a few drops of meat broth on the table. I leaned over the table, trying desperately to smell it. But I couldn't smell anything. I was dead. I didn't even have the right to smell things anymore. At 11 PM, the lock clicked, and they came back. Lily held a red balloon in one hand and a half-eaten egg tart in the other. "Mom, I'm sleepy." "Take a bath before bed, you're all greasy." My mom took off her shoes and turned on the living room light. The light was blinding. I instinctively shielded my eyes. The me on the floor was still in the same position. My mom glanced over and paused for a second. "Still kneeling?" She let out a scoff. "Such a stubborn temper. I wonder who she gets it from." My dad yawned. As he walked past the dining room to the bathroom, his pant leg brushed against my shoulder. I swayed slightly, then steadied. My dad stopped and looked back. "Chloe, that's enough." "You have school tomorrow. Go wash up and go to sleep." I ignored him, and my dad got angry. "Can't you hear me talking to you? Are you mute?" He reached out to grab me. 3 My mom's voice came from the bathroom. "Don't pay attention to her. It's a bad habit we've spoiled her into. Let her kneel. Let's see how long she can keep it up!" My dad's hand stopped in mid-air, then withdrew. Grumbling, he went into the bathroom. Then came the sounds of washing up and laughter. Lily splashing water in the bathtub, my mom scrubbing her back, my dad watching TV in the bedroom. How heartwarming. Except for the corpse kneeling on the floor in the corner of the dining room. It was late. The lights went out one by one. The master bedroom door closed. I floated to the crack in the door and peeked inside. Lily slept in the middle, my parents on either side, tucked snugly under the comforter. Lily still clutched that balloon in her hand. I floated back to the dining room and sat on my own back. It was so cold. The body on the floor had completely cooled, and the joints were beginning to stiffen. I just sat there, keeping myself company. At 3 AM, my mom came out for a glass of water. Wearing her pajamas, she groggily walked into the dining room. In the moonlight, my dark silhouette kneeling there looked like a monster. My mom paused mid-sip. She stared at me for a moment, a flicker of confusion in her eyes. She set down her glass and took a step forward. "Chloe?" She called out hesitantly, her voice very quiet. I floated right in front of her face and yelled: "Mom, I'm dead! Look at me!" My mom couldn't hear me. She just pulled her pajamas tighter and shivered. "Crazy," she muttered. "Trying to scare people in the middle of the night." She turned and went back to the bedroom, closing the door firmly. In that moment, I completely gave up hope. At 6 AM, my mom was the first to wake up. Wearing an apron, she hummed a tune as she walked into the kitchen. Walking past the dining room, she didn't even spare the me on the floor a single glance. The smell of frying eggs and the sweet aroma of warm milk wafted from the kitchen. Lily woke up. Wearing her little bunny pajamas, she walked out rubbing her eyes. "Mom, I want sweet milk." "Okay, Mom will get it for you." Walking past the dining room, Lily saw me. She ran over and hugged my neck from behind. "Sister, stop sleeping." "I want to ride the horsey. Get up and be my horsey!" She shook my body vigorously. If it were before, I would obediently get down on all fours and let her ride on my back. Even if the floor dug painfully into my knees, I had to smile and whinny like a horse. Because my mom said that's what an older sister is supposed to do. But today, I didn't move. Lily got upset. She let go and gave me a hard shove. "Are you going to get up or not? If you don't get up, I'll tell Mom to hit you!" That shove broke the delicate balance. The already stiff corpse, maintaining its kneeling posture, fell rigidly sideways. BANG! A loud crash. Louder than the sound of hitting the table yesterday. I fell to the floor, arms and legs still bent, frozen in a kneeling bow. That face was finally revealed. Pale, tinged with blue. Eyes half-open, pupils already dilated, staring blankly at the ceiling. A bit of dried sauce lingered at the corner of my mouth. The last trace left by that meatball. Lily was terrified. She reached out to grab my hand. "AH!" She screamed and yanked her hand back. "Mom! Mom!" "Sister turned into an ice cube! She's so cold!" My mom, who was frying an egg, jolted. The spatula dropped to the floor. She rushed out. "What is it? Why are you screaming so early?" She saw me lying on the floor. That grotesque posture. "Chloe?" she called out, her voice trembling. "Stop pretending. The floor is cold." "Hurry up and get up. Mom is frying an egg for you." It was the first time she had ever offered to fry an egg for me. Unfortunately, it was too late. My mom got closer. She crouched down and reached out to push my shoulder. Her hand met freezing cold flesh. 4 My mom's pupils instantly dilated. "AH!" My dad, still asleep, was so startled he rolled off the bed. He rushed out, pulling up his pants, not even fully dressed. "What's wrong? Is there a fire?" He saw my mom slumped on the floor, and me lying beside her in that bizarre posture, and his face instantly turned white. He rushed over, his trembling hand reaching for my nose. No breath. He checked my neck. No pulse. "She's dead..." My dad fell heavily onto the floor, a wet spot instantly spreading across his pants. "How could she be dead? She was perfectly fine yesterday." My mom seemed to suddenly snap awake. She threw herself at me, shaking my body frantically. "Chloe, wake up! Don't scare Mom." "Mom won't punish you anymore. Mom will take you to KFC." "Get up! Spit out the meatball, okay? I won't blame you." She cried, snot and tears smearing all over her face. But I just stared at her coldly. The ambulance arrived, and so did police cars, red and blue lights flashing against the windows. Neighbors crowded around the door, peering inside. "What happened? I heard a kid died." "Oh, what a sin. I heard them beating the kid yesterday." "Those parents are so biased. They were so cruel to the older girl." My mom heard them. She snapped her head up and roared at the door: "What are you looking at? Get lost!" "My daughter just fell down! Doctor, quickly, save her!" A few people in white coats walked in. They took one look at the body on the floor and shook their heads. "Lividity has already set in. She's been dead for at least twelve hours." My mom lunged like a madwoman, grabbing the doctor's sleeve. "You're lying! She was still kneeling last night! She moved!" "She's just greedy. She ate too much and fainted." "Please, I'm begging you, save her..." A young female police officer looked at my thin, small corpse, her eyes reddening. She turned to look at the solid wood dining table. On the corner of the table was a smear of dark, dried blood. "Take the body," the officer's voice was cold. "Call the coroner to determine the cause of death." My mom froze. "Why do you need a coroner?" "I won't let you cut my daughter open! She died from a fall!" "There's no need to investigate! It was an accident!" She fought desperately to stop them. But the harder she fought, the more suspicious the police grew. In the interrogation room at the police station, my mom sat in an iron chair, hands tightly clasped together. "I really didn't hit her. I just gave her a light push." "How was I supposed to know she would lose her balance? I never thought she'd hit her head on the corner of the table." "Officer, I'm her biological mother! How could I possibly want to hurt her?" She cried a river of tears. If I hadn't been floating right next to her, remembering her cold, indifferent face last night... I almost would have believed her. In the next room, the female officer was questioning Lily. Lily held a lollipop the officer had given her. "Sweetie, why was your sister kneeling on the floor yesterday?" Lily licked her lollipop. "Because my sister stole my meatball." "Mom got mad and slapped my sister." "Then Mom pushed her, and my sister's head hit the table." The officer's pen paused. "And then?" "And then my sister kneeled on the floor." "Mom said she had to kneel until she rotted." Lily's voice was crisp and innocent. "Kneel until she rotted." The female officer took a deep breath and closed her notebook. Meanwhile, in the autopsy room. An older medical examiner wearing a mask held a gleaming scalpel. "Deceased: Female, 8 years old." "Developmentally delayed. Height corresponds to a 6-year-old child." "Blunt force trauma to the back of the head, resulting in intracranial hemorrhage. This is the fatal wound." The scalpel sliced open my skin. I didn't feel pain, just a chilly draft. The medical examiner opened my stomach. Everyone held their breath. They expected to see the undigested meatball. The proof of the "greed" my mom had claimed. But the moment the stomach was opened... The older medical examiner's hand trembled. The assistant next to him covered his mouth, nearly vomiting. "What is this?" The older examiner used forceps to pick up a clump of residue. "This child... why is her stomach full of... this?"
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