Dying for a Love I Never Won

Archangel Michael once promised me that my new family would be wealthy and happy. And they truly were—wealthy, comfortable, and happy. But none of that love belonged to me. Every ounce of love in our house was given to my younger sister. Mom claimed to keep things fair by using Tarot cards. Lily was blessed with endless good luck. Whenever we drew cards to divide up love, attention, food, or toys, she always drew upright cards. I only ever drew reversed cards. I only ever got whatever scraps were left over after Lily took her pick. I protested once, but Mom snapped at me viciously. "If you can't draw an upright card, blame your own bad luck!" Then came my eleventh birthday. I wanted to go to the amusement park, but Lily wanted to go backstage at Dad's piano concert rehearsal. Mom pulled out the Tarot deck once again to decide. Desperate, I secretly taped a card onto the face of the one I meant to draw so it would turn up upright. Just this once. I just wanted to win once. Mom caught me. She slapped me hard across the face. She shoved me violently into the piano room and took Lily to the concert, telling me to stay put and reflect on what I'd done. Neither of them noticed that my head had struck the sharp edge of the grand piano, and blood was pooling across the floor. By the time I came to, my body felt weightless. I tried to wipe the blood off the floor, but my fingers passed right through it. It turned out I was dead. When people die, the Archangel comes to take them home. Grandma had told me that right before an angel took her away when I was little. Back then, Grandma had gotten into a huge fight with Mom. Grandma despised Mom's Tarot rule and chewed her out. "Stop making excuses! You just favor Lily because she's pretty and has a talent for piano!" "What about Hannah? Hannah is your child too!" "I'm teaching them resilience," Mom sneered back. "I only draw cards because I don't want to play favorites. It's totally fair. Mind your own business." "You are completely out of your mind!" Grandma's hands shook with rage. That night, Grandma fell asleep in her bed and never woke up. That evening, I saw Grandma standing behind Archangel Michael. She stroked my hair and whispered, "I have to go with the Archangel now, Hannah. Take care of yourself." After Grandma was gone, Mom's Tarot obsession grew worse. The cards decided everything in our house, right down to who got the chicken drumsticks at dinner. Before every meal, we drew a card. Whenever I drew a reversed card, the table would be loaded with seafood, Lily's favorite. Except I was severely allergic to seafood. I begged Mom to make just one dish I could eat. I hadn't eaten a decent meal in three days. Mom would only shrug with a cold, helpless look. "Rules are rules. Who told you to draw a reversed card?" I had to survive the night on dry crusts of bread. Even when I was burning up with a 103-degree fever, crying and begging to go to the hospital, Mom insisted we draw a card first. When I drew a reversed card, she turned around, walked into Lily's bedroom, and read her a bedtime story. "Hannah, my hands are tied." My whole life was dictated by Tarot. I never got to make a single choice for myself. Now, I suddenly wished I could make just one decision. I wanted to tell Mom that I wanted a coffin big enough for me to lie down flat. I had never had my own bedroom or a real bed. I was always shoved into a tiny, cramped corner of the piano room. As I was thinking, footsteps echoed from the hall. My eyes lit up as the front door swung open. It was Mom."Mom!" I rushed toward her eagerly. Mom walked straight through my body. I couldn't touch her anymore. I trailed behind her, cautiously trying to tell her what I wanted. She couldn't hear a word. She brushed past me to grab her handbag from the console. She hadn't come back because she was worried about me. When Mom glanced toward the piano room door, my breath caught. Would she see me? She stopped in front of the door, her tone dripping with annoyance. "Look at you. You hear your mother come home and can't even be bothered to come out and say hello? Getting older, getting an attitude, huh? Giving me the silent treatment?" "Let me tell you, sulking won't get you anywhere. You drew a reversed card because of your own terrible luck. You have no one to blame but yourself." Like a kid who had done something wrong, I panicked and tried to explain. "Mom, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ignore you. I died." "I didn't mean to die, and I got the floor all dirty. I'm sorry, Mom. I'll clean it..." My voice faded. "I can't clean it up anymore. I'm dead." Seeing that the door stayed shut, Mom frowned and twisted the doorknob. I jumped in front of the door. "Mom, don't! It's really messy inside." Right then, Lily ran in from the front door. "Mom, hurry up! Backstage is closing soon!" Mom let go of the knob, scooped Lily up in her arms, and turned to leave. After a few steps, she called out toward my door: "We'll be out late. There's apple pie on the counter for dinner, so don't you dare say I'm unfair." "Your sister didn't even get any. And I didn't even make you draw a card this time. Consider it a favor." The apple pie on the counter was left over from yesterday. Mom had brought it home from the hospital cafeteria and made us draw cards for it. I drew a reversed card, of course. I hadn't tasted a dessert in so long, so I couldn't stop staring at it. Mom had slapped me right across the face, disgusted. "What are you staring at? You're ruining your sister's mood!" "Did you forget the rules again?" "You drew a reversed card, so the pie belongs to Lily. Stare at it again and I'll gouge your eyes out." I hadn't expected her to just let me have it today. Even though the pie had started to go stale, I felt a little flicker of happiness. I couldn't eat it, but I still huddled in the corner, waiting for them to come home. Hours passed before Dad, Mom, and Lily returned, their faces beaming with joy. "Mom, Dad's piano piece was amazing! The stage manager backstage said I'm a natural! I loved it so much. Can I go on stage next time?" Mom kissed her forehead lovingly. "Your mom doesn't have that kind of pull, sweetie." Lily giggled and backed away. "Don't kiss me yet! We haven't drawn cards. If Hannah sees, she'll start crying about things being unfair again." "Though she's probably already crying in the piano room anyway. It's her birthday, after all." Mom glanced at the kitchen counter. The apple pie was still there, untouched. She scoffed, her voice brimming with certainty. "If she could draw an upright card, I'd kiss her too. Too bad her luck is trash." "She didn't even touch the pie. She's throwing another tantrum. Your sister takes everything personally. Just ignore her." "Mom, I didn't..." I tried to say. Nobody saw me. Nobody heard me. Mom started putting together a late-night snack. "Hannah! Come out and draw your card! Don't you dare refuse to eat once the food is ready!" Dad, who was rewatching his performance video on his phone, grunted in irritation. "Why bother with her? If she won't come out, skip her. Just make what Lily likes. Let her starve if she wants to be dramatic!" "We put a roof over her head and food on the table. And what do we get? Attitude. Ungrateful brat!" I stood to the side, quietly listening. Even if I drew, what difference would it make? For eleven years, the table had only ever held food Lily loved. I was left picking at plain, dry rice. Well, they really didn't need to worry about me anymore.Mom ended up cooking a full spread of Lily's favorite dishes. The three of them sat around the table, laughing and chatting, looking like the picture-perfect, happy family. Feeling lonely, I drifted closer to Mom. Then I noticed a bakery box sitting on the side chair. A birthday cake. Could it be for me? I had never eaten a birthday cake. Every year, I could only watch Lily blow out her candles. I had always wondered what cake tasted like. Just one tiny bite would have been enough. Mom picked up the box and handed the whole cake to Lily. She even lowered her voice, as if afraid I'd hear. "Sneak this into your room to eat, okay? If your sister finds out, she'll throw another fit." I'd cried once, years ago. Mom had held it against me ever since. As if I was always the unreasonable, dramatic one. I wasn't even that sad anymore. Even if we drew cards, I'd end up with a reversed one. That was just my luck. Suddenly, a decorative vase on the shelf tipped over. It crashed down, knocking Lily's cake to the floor. Lily's hand got clipped, leaving a red mark. She burst into loud wails. Mom immediately grabbed a heavy metal music binder and hurled it violently against my piano room door. "Hannah! Did you do this on purpose to hurt your sister? Did you set that up to fall?!" When there was no answer, Mom was completely beside herself with rage. Dad caught her arm. "Forget about her! Take Lily to urgent care. We'll deal with Hannah when we get back!" By the time they returned, it was past midnight. Mom and Dad pounded on my door. When I still didn't answer, they lost patience. They decided to just ignore me. Mom had bought Lily a brand-new princess dress. Lily twirled around, showing it off outside my door. "I cried when they cleaned my scratch, so Mom felt bad and bought me a pretty new dress and a big steak dinner!" "You've never had steak, have you? Sucks to have bad luck! If you could draw an upright card, Mom would buy you dresses and steak too!" Inside the room, my blood had seeped through the gap under the door. Lily stepped on the slick pool, slipped, and crashed down. She shrieked at the top of her lungs, bringing Dad and Mom rushing over. "What happened?! Where did all this blood come from?!" Dad stared at the gap under the door, his face pale. "It's coming from Hannah's room. Hannah?" His dread was cut short by Lily's sobs. "I just wanted to show Hannah my new dress, and she yelled at me to get lost! That's my blood! My head hurts so bad!" Without checking a single thing, Mom exploded. She kicked my door furiously. "Hannah! Get your ass out here right now! You made your sister bleed this much and you dare hide in there?!" This time, Mom was desperate to break in. She kicked harder and harder. Inside, my lifeless body was being slammed repeatedly by the jarring door, growing more mangled by the second. I wondered if they would be terrified if they saw me like this. The door wouldn't budge. Mom gave up and went to check on Lily. "Vicious little wretch," she muttered as she walked away. Lily only had a tiny scrape. But neither of them ever considered that Lily might be lying. It wasn't the first time. Ever since we were little, whenever Lily messed up, she would cry first and blame me. Mom was always "fair." She'd say, "I don't care who started it. We're drawing cards. Whoever draws a reversed card gets punished." And every single time, I was the one who got beaten. If I were still alive right now, I probably would have received a punishment far worse than before. I floated downstairs. Suddenly, my eyes caught something on the living room floor. Tears spilled from my eyes. Finally, I understood why I had never drawn an upright card in eleven years.The Tarot box had fallen off the shelf and cracked open. Two stacks had spilled across the rug, one from each side of a hidden divider. The cards in one stack had all been set to turn up reversed. In the other, every card was set to turn up upright. I thought about how Mom always made me turn away while Lily drew. She'd been switching stacks right in front of me. Mom and Dad never loved me. Just like Grandma had said, the Tarot cards were nothing more than a convenient excuse. A facade of fairness to hide their blatant favoritism. A chilling cold settled deep into my bones. I was already dead, yet my heart ached so fiercely. Assuming I was "throwing a tantrum," Mom and Dad treated me like thin air after coming back from the clinic. They didn't set a place for me or call me to draw cards. They just fussed over Lily. It was as if I had never existed in that house. Until Mr. Vance, the piano tuner, came by. "Dr. Miller, is there something going on by your piano room?" "It smells like something's rotting. And how come I haven't seen Hannah lately? Doesn't she usually help label the sheet music?" Mom was peeling crab for Lily, not even bothering to look up. "She's throwing a tantrum. She won't even eat, let alone label sheet music. As for the smell..." Mom suddenly stood up in a fit of rage, marched to my door, and slammed her fist against it. "Hannah! Did you hide some rotting junk in there?! What are you trying to pull? Trying to make everyone think I'm a terrible mother who doesn't raise you right?!" She yelled for a long time. There was no answer. Mr. Vance frowned. "Could something be wrong? Hannah is just a kid. She can't go days without food or water." Crouched in the corner, I looked up at Mom. I didn't see the worry I secretly longed for. All I saw was a face full of sneering contempt. "She put Lily in the clinic twice this week! What could possibly happen to her? Lily's the one with a bruised forehead! Lily is the one who got hurt!" Looking at Lily's teary eyes, Mr. Vance swallowed his words. After he left, Mom dumped all the leftover food straight into the trash can. "Want to hold out against me? Fine! Let's see how long you can last! I'm not leaving you a single scrap." "Since you refuse to come out, I'll just call your school and unenroll you! Save me some tuition money!" The smell grew worse until even Mom and Dad couldn't ignore it. Yet they never once suspected that I was dead. They only assumed I had turned into a foul, spiteful brat. A filthy child who relieved herself on the floor just to spite them. Mr. Vance was the one who called the police. After he left, he couldn't stop thinking about what he'd seen. When Mom saw the officers on our doorstep, she slammed her hand on the table and stood up. "What is the meaning of this?! Bringing the police to arrest us? Did we murder someone? Did we break the law?!" "Officers," Mr. Vance spoke up, "she locked her daughter in that room for days with no food or water! That's child abuse!" "And their parenting is completely twisted! They use Tarot cards to raise their kids, claiming it's fair, but they only spoil the younger one while neglecting the older one!" "I'm terrified the older girl has been abused to death!" Hearing that, Mom let out a scoffing laugh. "How I raise my kids is my business! It has nothing to do with you, so stay out of it!" "Officers, my daughter is perfectly fine. He's filing a false report. You should arrest him!" The officers, however, had already caught the sickening stench of decay hanging in the air. They stepped forward, preparing to force the door open. Mom threw herself in front of it. "This is trespassing! Get out of my house!" "My daughter is not dead! She's just throwing a tantrum! She's making that foul smell on purpose just to get my attention!" Dad roughly dragged Mom aside, his temper flaring. "Stop arguing. Let them open it." "This is ridiculous. We've never abused our kid. She's just acting out, and you people are jumping to insane conclusions." "Let Hannah come out and explain it herself. That stubborn brat has gotten way too out of hand." The crowbar snapped the latch. The door swung wide. As a wave of putrid stench hit everyone in the face, they saw my body—rotted beyond recognition. Floating in the air, I instinctively turned my gaze toward Mom and Dad.