The night before my SATs. Mom was in the kitchen, cooking my favorite dinner. My sister, six months pregnant, sat on the couch helping me pack, nagging me for the hundredth time not to forget my admission ticket. I smiled, about to say "okay." Suddenly, a line of bullet comments (danmu) floated across my vision. The text read: [Is this the family that gets brutally murdered right before the SATs?] [Such a pity. If this girl didn't die, she had a shot at Harvard.] [The sister is the most tragic. Not only dismembered, but the baby was cut out of her belly and thrown into the sewer.] A chill ran down my spine. They said... my whole family dies tonight? 1 Knock knock knock. Before I could process the meaning of the floating text, someone knocked on the door. "Who is it?" my sister asked casually. "Delivery." "We didn't order any takeout," my sister said, puzzled. "Wrong address?" "No, Unit 401, for Ms. Rosie." Rosie. That’s me. My sister gave me a playful glare. "Ordering takeout right before dinner? You little glutton." "But since your big exam is tomorrow, I'll let it slide." She stood up to open the door. As she moved, the text in front of me scrolled frantically. [Don't open it! That's not a delivery guy, it's a psycho killer!] [Seriously, don't you know if you ordered food? Why just open the door for anyone?] [This is why characters in horror novels die. zero survival instincts.] Cold sweat drenched my back. I grabbed my sister's arm. "Wait! Don't open it!" She looked back, confused. "What's wrong?" I pointed at the door, whispering, "Sis, something's wrong. I never ordered anything." My sister looked through the peephole, then recoiled. "He's not wearing a uniform. He really looks suspicious." My sweat poured. The comments were real. There was a murderer outside. As if sensing our hesitation, the person outside pulled a wet, dirty uniform from his bag. "Please open up, I have another order to deliver. I really am a delivery driver. I fell into a puddle and got my uniform dirty, so I took it off." "But we didn't order anything," my sister said through the door. "It was ordered for you. The note says: 'Good luck on the SATs, Princess Rosie.'" My sister relaxed instantly. She smiled at me. "Mystery solved. Your brother-in-law ordered it. Princess Rosie, do your best tomorrow." She reached for the lock again. "Princess Rosie." Only my brother-in-law called me that. But the comments made me hesitate. I stopped her again. "Leave it at the door. We'll get it later." The person outside didn't move. "It's marked as a valuable item. Must be signed for in person. Please hurry, I'm late for my next delivery." My sister laughed. "Valuable? Definitely from your brother-in-law. He said he'd get you something good after the exam. You little worrywart, open the door." She reached for the lock. The comments screamed at us to run. The "delivery guy" kept urging us. My mind was a mess. Maybe he's legit. But what if? Looking at my pregnant sister and my mom in the kitchen, I couldn't risk it. I stopped her again. I ran to the kitchen and grabbed a cleaver. Ignoring their confused looks, I stood by the door and opened it. I later learned this decision was the start of a nightmare I couldn't wake up from. 2 The moment the door opened, he kicked the knife out of my hand. Before I could react, another man hiding behind him swung an axe into my head. To make sure I didn't run, he smashed my lower back with a hammer. My sister screamed and tried to save me, but he grabbed her hair and dragged her inside. Mom rushed out with a knife but was stabbed through the heart with a machete. Pain and blood consumed me. In my last moments, I saw the comments again. [Poor girl tried so hard, but still died.] [Yeah, and because she stalled, the killer tortured her sister even worse. The baby was ground into meat paste.] [Sigh. This family is cursed.] 3 I opened my eyes. The pain and smell of blood were gone. I was standing in the living room, safe and sound. The smell of fried pork filled the air. My sister was on the couch, nagging me about my admission ticket. The text floated before me again. [Is this the family that gets dismembered before the SATs?] [If not for those killers, this girl could have gone to Harvard.] [The sister had it worst. Baby cut out and destroyed.] Tears filled my eyes. I hugged my sister tight. "Why are you so clingy all of a sudden? Nervous about tomorrow?" "Don't worry. I took time off work to be with you." I couldn't hold back the tears. My sister is the best. Since Dad died, it's just been the three of us. Life was hard, but we had each other. But such good people were brutally murdered. Knock knock knock. "Who is it?" I stopped her. "Shh. My classmate's dad is the police chief. He said two killers are posing as delivery drivers in our neighborhood. Don't open the door for strangers." My sister looked surprised but stayed silent. She picked up a baseball bat. "Don't be scared, Rosie. I'll protect you." Mom came out with a knife. "Mom will protect you too. No one hurts my girls." Their trust moved me to tears, but I had no time to cry. I locked the door and called 911. "There are killers outside our door." The police said they'd be there in 10 minutes. I relaxed slightly. We just need to hold the door. But the comments scrolled faster. [Smart girl, keeping the door locked.] [But she doesn't know there's already an accomplice hiding inside the house.] [No matter what she does, the ending is the same.] Cold sweat returned. An accomplice inside? Where? Squeak. A faint sound from the corner. A man stepped out of the large wardrobe. He smiled psychotically. "Smart. Knowing not to open the door." "But useless." He swung a machete at Mom. Blood filled my vision. I grabbed Mom's dropped knife and charged him. But before I reached him, a gunshot rang out. He had a gun. I fell, dead. My sister screamed, raising the bat, but the door was axed open. The intruder struck her back, then her belly. The baby, the intestines... dragged out. We died again. Brutally. 4 Dad died when I was in elementary school. Mom raised us selling fruit. She refused to remarry, fearing a stepfather wouldn't treat us well. Rain or shine, she worked her stall. She put my sister through college. Now it was my turn. I was top of my class. Teachers said I was Ivy League material. Mom said once I got into college, she could finally rest. We planned a trip to Yunnan after my sister gave birth. Mom had never left the city. We were finally growing up. We could finally take care of her. But why? Even reborn, I couldn't save them. I closed my eyes in despair. Opened them again. Back in the living room. 5 Fried pork smell. Sister nagging. I stared at the door, desperate. Two killers outside. One with a gun inside. We three women couldn't win. My sister noticed my silence. "Rosie, nervous? Don't worry. I'm with you." Comments: [Here we go again. The massacred family.] [Poor girl.] I clenched my fists, brain racing. We can't fight them. I looked at the balcony. Our balcony was connected to the neighbor's by a narrow gap. Only a small person could fit. I was skinny enough. The neighbor's sons were a gym coach and a PE teacher. If I could get their help... I texted the police. Then I typed a note on my phone and showed my sister. [Don't speak. There's a killer hiding in the house. Two more are coming to the door.] [Stall the people at the door. Do not open it.] [I'm going next door for help.] We didn't alert Mom to avoid startling the gunman in the wardrobe. When the knocking started, I was on the balcony. I looked at my sister one last time and squeezed through the gap. Comments: [Smart girl. Going for help.] [But useless. Horror novels always have casualties.] [They can't escape.] I ignored them. I will change fate. But the neighbor's balcony door was locked. No one was home. I had to find help. I looked down. Fourth floor. I gritted my teeth and jumped onto the AC unit below. Layer by layer, I climbed down. I ran toward the complex exit, screaming for help. A van sped toward me. Bang. I lay on the ground, bleeding out. A short, fat man got out of the van, yelling into his phone. "How are you guys working? Someone jumped from the balcony! Idiots, finish the job!" Upstairs, my sister screamed. I closed my eyes. Four killers. The comments were right. We can't escape.
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