They were late to my fifth birthday party. My own party. When Mom and Dad finally walked in, they had a girl with them. She was small and thin and silent, and they led her by the hand. Mia. My new sister. I ran to hug my mother, my arms outstretched, but she sidestepped me. The momentum sent me stumbling, and I fell backward into the cake. The three-tiered, princess-themed castle of a cake they had so carefully picked out for me. Buttercream and frosting clogged my nose and mouth. For a second, I couldn't breathe. Panic flared in my chest. I scrambled out, sputtering and crying, my party dress ruined. I reached for my father. “Daddy, hold me.” He started to lift his arms, but then his face crumpled with a pained sort of apology and he let them drop. “Milly, don’t be upset with your mom,” he said, his voice low. “From now on, you have to take care of your sister. If Mia’s happy, Mom will be happy. Understand?” Later that week, some of the older kids from down the street pushed Mia into the sandbox. I saw it happen from our window and flew out the door, all fists and fury, and drove them away. When we got home, I decided to be a grown-up. I drew a bath for her, just like Mom used to do for me, to wash the sand from her hair. The bathroom door burst open. Mom stood there, her face a thundercloud. Then her hand cracked across my cheek, the force of it snapping my head to the side. “You had our love all to yourself for five years! Why is that still not enough for you? Now you’re trying to drown your sister?” Her eyes were bloodshot. She grabbed a fistful of my hair and dragged me out of the bathroom and into the laundry room. She shoved me, hard, into the drum of our front-loading washer. “There’s a wickedness in you,” she hissed, her face close to the glass door. “Maybe this can finally wash it out. You can come out and apologize when you decide to stop hurting your sister.” From the living room, I heard Dad’s muffled voice. “Keep it down, honey. Mia’s almost asleep. Don’t wake her.” Mom didn’t even look at me again. She just slammed the heavy door shut. What she didn’t realize, what she’d forgotten, was the child-lock feature she’d insisted on when they bought it. For my safety. It clicked shut. A synthesized voice filled the small space. Sanitize cycle engaged. Water temperature will reach 200 degrees Fahrenheit. The first jets of scalding water hit my back. The pain was so total, so immediate, I thought my skin was melting off. Maybe this was what it took. If I let the machine wash me clean, would Mom love me again? 1 Mom always said she used the Sanitize cycle to make sure my clothes were completely germ-free. It was the only setting she ever used. The moment the boiling water hit my skin, blisters erupted. The slightest movement sent waves of agony through me. Between the cycles of water filling the drum, I hammered my small fists against the thick glass of the door. “Mommy, help me! It’s Milly! It hurts, Mommy, it hurts so bad!” The water pooling at my feet had already boiled the skin off my soles. “Stop that racket! You sound like a banshee!” Her voice, sharp and angry, cut through the wall. “If you wake up your sister, you’ll be in for it.” The plea died in my throat. I remembered last week, when I’d run outside to give Mom her phone after she’d left it behind. I’d tripped on the porch steps and scraped my knee. “You did that on purpose, didn't you?” she’d sneered, standing over me. “The second I try to take Mia to the park, you fake an injury to get attention. You want the neighbors to think I’m a monster, that I favor her.” She had knelt, her face inches from mine. “If you ever pull a stunt like that again, I’ll send you to live with your grandparents. You will never set foot in this house again.” My body went rigid inside the machine. No. I don’t want to leave Mom and Dad. The water started pouring in again. I curled into a tight ball, shoving my fist into my mouth to stop the scream, biting down so hard I tasted blood. I wouldn’t make another sound. Clumps of my hair, boiled loose from my scalp, swirled in the rising water. I’m sorry, Mommy. Milly made the washer dirty. My thoughts grew fuzzy. I tried so hard, I really did. Why was I always making Mom angry? After Mia came home, I gave her all my best toys. I used to be selfish, Mom always said so, but Mia couldn't talk, and that was sad, so I wanted to take care of her. Dad said if I was good to Mia, Mom would be happy. But why didn’t Mom hug me anymore? Why didn't she smile at me? Every time I ran to her, she’d just push me away, her face a cold mask. Was I still not good enough? The front door opened. It was Dad, home from work. A surge of joy went through me. I rushed toward him, wanting to be swept up in his arms. But I passed right through him and hit the wall on the other side. I froze. I looked down at my hands. They were translucent, shimmering like heat off summer asphalt. I… was I dead? “Milly sleeping in today?” Dad’s voice was warm. “Strange she didn’t come running to the door.” He hadn't seen me. He hadn't seen my body, what was left of it, mangled and wedged against the drain, my shredded legs having finally stopped the machine's cycle. Mom tiptoed out of Mia’s room, a finger to her lips. “Shhh, Mia’s napping. That girl… who knows what she’s up to. I gave her a little time-out today and now she’s sulking, refusing to even come out for lunch. I’ve been too soft on her.” Dad rubbed her back gently, though his expression was uneasy. “Honey, I think you’re taking things out on Milly. We know the truth. Mia wandered off on her own all those years ago. It had nothing to do with Milly.” Mom fell silent for a moment, then shrugged his hand away. “I know that. But when I think of everything Mia went through, while Milly was here, living in the lap of luxury… I just feel like I failed Mia.” Dad sighed. I hovered in the air, a coldness deeper than death seeping into me. Mia’s disappearance… they thought I was involved? No wonder. No wonder Mom never held me close anymore, never called me her precious baby. I remembered once, she’d accidentally smiled at me, a real, warm smile, and then her face had shuttered and she’d shoved me to the floor. “Brat. Who told you to come over here? Get back to your room.” I thought if I was just good enough to Mia, the old Mom would come back. But she was already gone. Mom had stopped loving me a long time ago. “Alright, alright,” Dad said gently. “When Milly’s done being mad, I’ll have her apologize. Let’s just eat. You know you’ll feel bad if she actually starves herself.” Mom turned her face away, but she went to the kitchen and set the table with four plates, four sets of silverware. And the little spoon with a cat face on the handle, the one I’d wanted for months. My heart softened. That was Mom. A tough exterior, but deep down, she still cared. Dad opened my bedroom door. It was empty. “She’s not in here. Do you think she’s hiding somewhere?” He turned, his steps moving toward the laundry room. “Don’t you dare go looking for her!” Mom snapped. “Let her hide. If she wants to throw a tantrum over a few cross words, she can stay hidden forever.” She slammed the silverware down on the table. “She probably went to one of her friends’ houses. That’s just like her. To hurt her sister and then run off to play without a care in the world. She’s a little monster.” The cat spoon snapped in her hand. I lowered my gaze, twisting my ghostly fingers together. Mom hadn't noticed. Milly didn't have any friends anymore. Kids are vultures. They know exactly who has a parent in their corner and who doesn't. After my birthday party, I became the target. They’d stick a leg out to trip me, shove me on the stairs. When the teachers asked what happened, they’d put on their most innocent faces. I never told on them. I didn’t want to cause Mom any more trouble. But the day I saw them bullying Mia, I lost it. I grabbed their hair and I fought. I fought until they ran away crying. After that, the bullying doubled down on me. I didn’t care. As long as Mia was safe, they could do whatever they wanted to Milly. To stop Dad from looking for me, Mom pulled a pile of new clothes from a shopping bag. “Mark, look at these. Aren’t they cute?” “Are these for both our girls?” he asked, a smile in his voice. “We’ll have Milly try them on when she gets back.” I drifted closer to look. They were beautiful. Every single one was in a style I loved. Mom’s smile vanished. She snatched the clothes back from him. “They’re all for Mia. Milly has more than enough clothes. She doesn’t deserve anything this nice.” A wave of shame washed over the flicker of joy I’d felt. I floated into a corner, trying to make myself invisible. What were you thinking, Milly? Mia is the one who suffered. Of course they’re for her. Besides… I’m already dead. It’s a good thing Mom didn’t buy me anything. It would have been a waste. Mom is so smart. I forced a smile onto my face, but my throat felt tight. “I need to wash these first,” Mom said, folding the tiny dresses. “Can’t have Mia wearing them straight from the store, she might get a rash. She’s going to look like the most beautiful little princess.” She started walking toward the laundry room. No! My heart seized. I flew to the door, trying to see my body curled inside. I’m so ugly now. It will scare her. Mom will have nightmares. Milly used to be there to comfort her. Now that Milly’s gone, who would bring her a warm glass of honey water at 40 degrees when she woke up in the middle of the night? Her footsteps grew closer. The doorknob turned. I held my breath, my very essence. “Hey, what’s this scratch on Mia’s arm?” Dad exclaimed from the living room. Mom’s footsteps immediately changed direction. “It must have been Milly,” she shrieked. “It must have been her! She can’t stand us being nice to Mia, so she’s hitting her in secret!” No, it wasn’t me! It was that mean boy! I spun in frantic circles around her, but she couldn’t hear me. Mia, unable to speak or write, just cried and shook her head violently. Mom swept her into a fierce hug, tears streaming down her face. “It’s all my fault. I’m so sorry, baby. I thought you and your sister could become friends, but all I did was give that monster a chance to hurt you. Don’t you worry. Mommy will protect you from now on. I will never let your sister hurt you again.” I stared at her, then down at my own ghostly arms and legs, covered in a network of faded bruises and scratches, far more than the single mark on Mia’s arm. But Mom hadn’t bathed me or tucked me into bed in a long, long time. She never saw them. “Milly used to be such a sweet kid,” Dad said, his brow furrowed. “She wouldn’t do something like this. Let’s not jump to conclusions. What if we’re wrong? We should find her and ask her what happened.” “If I’m wrong, I’ll apologize,” Mom said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “But how could I be? Since Mia came back, I’ve tried my best to be fair, but Milly is always finding new ways to play the victim, to make everything about her. She’s angry we don’t dote on her exclusively anymore, so she takes it out on Mia. How can such a little girl be so full of poison?” “What are you talking about? She’s eight years old! What does she know?” Dad looked toward my empty room, worry clouding his eyes. “And she’s been gone all day. Aren’t you even a little bit worried?” “Worried? Why should I be? She hurt her sister. The best thing would be if she just dropped dead outside! Because if she comes back, I swear to God, I’ll kill her myself.” “You’re being irrational. I’m going to go look for her.” Dad headed for the door. I rushed to grab his sleeve. Don’t go, Daddy, Milly’s not out there. Milly’s home. And please, don’t fight with Mom because of me. It’s not worth it. The moment the front door opened, sunlight streamed in, hitting my spectral form. The pain was searing. I recoiled back into the shadows of the house. In Mia’s room, Mom was crying, rocking her back and forth. “It’s Mommy’s fault. I didn’t protect you. If your sister ever touches you again, I’ll beat her to death.” A dull blade twisted in my chest. Stop it, Milly, I told myself. Don’t be sad. She’s just saying that because she’s angry. I was always a mischievous kid. After Mia disappeared, Mom was so terrified of losing me, too, that she spoiled me rotten. When I was five, I broke my great-grandmother’s antique vase, a family heirloom, and Mom didn’t even scold me. And besides… I looked in the hall mirror at my completely transparent reflection. Mom’s right, Milly. Mia’s been through so much. It’s only fair that Mom loves her more now. Even though I was only eight, I was bigger and stronger than Mia. I was a big girl now. No, a big ghost. I could take care of myself. Mom wiped her tears and picked up the pile of new clothes again, heading back toward the laundry room. No, Dad’s not here. If she sees me by herself, she’ll be terrified. I pressed my whole being against the laundry room door, trying to hold it shut. But she opened it with ease, her solid form passing right through mine. I threw myself over the washing machine. Is there any way to make her leave? Please, don’t look at what’s left of Milly… There was a knock at the front door. Thank God. Mom set the clothes on a shelf and walked to the door, pulling out her phone as she went. On the screen, I saw the smart-home app. She tapped a button. Remote Pre-Wash Cycle: Start. The machine, which had been jammed by my shredded legs, jolted back to life as a new torrent of water dislodged the blockage. It was over. Now I was going to completely ruin Mom’s favorite appliance. I beat against the machine, trying to make it stop, but the drum spun faster and faster. A pinkish, bloody foam began to seep from the cracks in the door seal. “Mrs. Thompson, you need to look at my son! Your daughter, that little monster, beat him up!” My ears perked up. It was the mean boy’s mother. Kyle’s mom. She used to come over and complain all the time, and every time, Mom would defend me fiercely and send her packing. I covered my mouth to hide a smile, floating out to see how quickly Mom would get rid of her this time. “That horrid child!” Mom’s face was a mask of strained apology. “I am so, so sorry. I know it must be Milly’s fault. Please, don’t worry, I will make sure she apologizes to Kyle.” My heart seized. A dull, gnawing pain started in my chest. Mom… what are you saying? You know Milly never starts fights. And why should I apologize? He was hurting Mia. I wasn’t wrong. If it happened again, I’d hit him again! I flew in front of Kyle and swung my fist. He didn’t see me. He wasn’t scared. My smile faltered. I looked down at my transparent hands. I was dead. I could never protect Mia again. “Kids need discipline. A firm hand,” Kyle’s mom said, her voice smug. “If you ask me, you’re too soft on her.” “You’re right. Your Kyle is so well-behaved. Not like my Milly. She does nothing but cause trouble.” Mom’s eyes were full of disgust when she said my name. “She’s getting worse and worse. Lying, fighting, stealing… she’s just a bad seed.” Why are you saying that, Mommy? Milly doesn’t do those things. Tears welled in my eyes, but I clenched my little fists, refusing to let them fall. Kyle’s mom’s eyes shifted slyly. “Well, you know what they say. You can see the whole person by the time they’re seven. You see those stories online, right? Teenagers killing their parents for the insurance money? That Milly of yours has a dark streak. And you let her spend all day with your other daughter? Aren’t you afraid she’ll do something to Mia when you’re not looking? Kill her, or cripple her?” I would never! I love Mia more than anyone! My face flushed with rage. Mom’s expression darkened. She looked at the scratch on Mia’s arm and said nothing. The silence stretched until Kyle’s mom began to look awkward. “I’m sorry, I’m overstepping—” “No, you’re right,” Mom whispered. “She needs to go… I can’t bear the pain of losing another daughter…” Panic seized me. I stared at Mom, bewildered. But I was being good, wasn’t I? I didn’t scream or cry in the washer, I didn’t wake Mia up. Why do you still want to send me away? “Exactly!” Kyle’s mom beamed. “Here, let me give you some parenting tips.” She turned to her son. “Kyle, why don’t you take the little girl outside to play?” No! He’ll hurt her! I forgot my own sorrow and lunged for Mia’s hand, trying desperately to hold her back. But Kyle grabbed her arm and pulled her straight through my body. I looked outside. The midday sun was a blinding white glare. I clenched my jaw and flew out after them. The burning sensation of the sun was a thousand times worse than the boiling water. “Agh! It hurts!” I couldn’t help but scream, but even as my essence felt like it was dissolving, I had to get Mia back. “A ghost! It’s a ghost!” For a fleeting second, my form became partially visible. My agonized face terrified Kyle. He shoved Mia to the ground and ran, screaming. In that same instant, my own soul grew thinner. My entire right arm vanished. I had a feeling I was about to disappear for good. “It was Milly! She turned into a ghost to scare me and Mia!” Kyle shrieked, a dark stain spreading on the front of his pants. “How dare she!” his mother yelled. “Terrifying a child like that! If my son has nightmares, I’m not just suing you, I’ll make sure that girl pays with her life!” She scooped up her son and stormed off. “I’m warning you, you need to punish her severely this time. If you don’t, I’ll make sure the authorities do!” Mia, frantic, was making sharp noises, her hands flying in a flurry of gestures. I had learned some sign language for her. She was saying: Sister was protecting me. Sister is hurt. Mommy, save Sister. But Mom didn’t understand. She was trembling with rage. She pulled out her phone and called Dad. “Milly has gone too far. I am so disappointed. It wasn’t enough that she was hitting Mia, now she’s pretending to be a ghost to traumatize her.” She paused, listening. “A misunderstanding? How could it be? The boy saw her with his own two eyes. Do you think everyone is a pathological liar like Milly? I don’t care if she’s pretending to be a ghost. If she ever really becomes one, I’ll hire a priest to exorcise her, to scatter her soul to the winds so she can never be reborn!” Yelling into the phone, she stormed into my room and began tearing it apart. “That little viper. And here we were, worried about her. You get home right now and you take her to your parents’ house. I never want to see her again in my life. If she grows up and gets herself killed, don’t even bother telling me!” I followed her, watching as she violently shoved all my belongings into a suitcase. Every word was like one of the dull little knives from my kindergarten art set, stabbing into my heart. It hurt, and then it was just numb. Is that really how you see me, Mommy? A constant, ugly little stain? Tears finally fell, splashing silently onto my ghostly hands. I knelt on the floor, trying to pick up the toys she had bought me over the years. But they crumbled into dust in my grasp, just like my heart. Neither of us knew that a convoy of police cars was pulling quietly into our neighborhood. A neighbor stood on our lawn, waving them down. “Over here, officers! It’s this house! There’s… there’s bloody foam leaking out from the side of the house!”
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