When a gentle woman moved into our home, I saw my brother smile for the first time in ages. He said she would live with us and take care of me. I ran to her with a card I’d made and asked if she knew his biggest wish. She crouched down, smiled, and said, "Your brother’s biggest wish is for you to disappear." At that moment, memories flooded back: my parents in a pool of blood, my brother’s vows at their graves, the plates I broke, the tears he could never wipe away. After the accident, I became the idiot everyone whispered about. My medical bills drained our family’s savings. My brother went to college by day and worked grueling night shifts, yet returned to a house I’d trashed. I’d throw filthy things at him, shouting that he wanted to hurt me. He never got angry, just held me, repeating, "Besser, it’s me. It’s your brother." Later, as I worsened, he had to take me everywhere. One day, I ruined a new job he’d worked so hard to get. He crouched with his back to me, shoulders shaking, and said brokenly, "Besser, why don’t you just die? Stop torturing me…" Those words unlocked a piece of my memory. I walked over, wiped his face with my shirt, and whispered, "Brother, don’t cry." He pulled me into a tight hug, choking on apologies. Now I finally understood. Those moments of clarity and his occasional tenderness were just the calm before the storm. Some wishes are not just words spoken in anger. 1 I stared blankly at Randee. It took a long time before I could force a sentence out of my mouth. "Die... what does it mean to die?" Randee let out a cold scoff. "You really are a retard. You don't even know what dying means." She crouched lower, explaining with mock patience. "Dying means you end up exactly like your parents. Gone. Erased." I stumbled backward in terror and shook my head. "Brother said... he doesn't want Besser to die." Randee stood up, looking down at me from above. "Your brother changed his mind. He told me himself. His greatest wish is for you to vanish." "So go die, Besser. It's better for him, and it's better for me." I stood frozen, gripping my handmade card tightly, struggling to process her words. When I finally snapped out of it, I noticed the sliced fruit scattered across the floor and the trash that had spilled out of the bin. No. The house was messy. Cole was going to be mad. I quickly squatted down, trying to scoop the garbage back into the bin. A noise came from the front porch. The door clicked open. Cole was home. I looked up at him with a big smile. I was just about to tell him how good I had been today, but Randee ran past me, crying, and threw herself into his arms. She pointed at the mess on the floor. "I really can't handle your sister anymore, Cole. I tried to feed her some fruit, and not only did she refuse to eat, but she threw everything everywhere!" A deeply apologetic look crossed my brother's face. He stroked Randee's hair gently. "I am so sorry, Randee. The doctor said she was getting better. I didn't think she would act up again so soon." My mouth fell open slightly. I instinctively wanted to defend myself, but my damaged brain couldn't string a complete sentence together. I could only stutter, "Besser didn't..." Randee shot me a sideways glance before complaining again. "Look at her. She even knows how to lie now." Cole let out a heavy sigh. He knelt in front of me. "Besser, lying is wrong." "And didn't I tell you to listen to Randee while I was gone? Why didn't you listen?" I was so confused. But Randee told me to go die. Brother, was I really supposed to listen to her? My already broken mind felt like an overheated engine. A wave of dizziness hit me, and I collapsed weakly into his arms. Randee leaned in close. "Will she ever really be normal again?" Cole held me a little tighter. His voice was firm. "She will. Even if there's only a one-in-a-ten-thousand chance, I am going to cure her." He didn't notice the dark, venomous look that flashed across Randee's eyes. But a second later, her voice was sickly sweet again. "Okay. Focus on your work. I'll help you take good care of her." Cole was moved to tears by her understanding. But for me, the real nightmare had just begun. One afternoon, she was sitting on the sofa watching TV and ordered me to massage her legs. I squeezed her calves clumsily. She kicked me hard in the chest, sending me flying backward. "Are you stupid? You can't even massage a leg right?" I landed a few feet away, crying out loud from the sharp pain. But when Cole came home, Randee twisted the story, claiming I was throwing another tantrum. Cole could only tell me, over and over again, to be a good girl and listen to her. Choking on my sobs, I reached out, wanting my brother to hold me like he used to. But he swatted my hands away. His tone was unusually harsh. "Besser. Say it. Tell me you will listen to Randee." I was trembling from crying so hard. I mumbled incoherently, "Brother says... listen to Randee..." Right then, Randee pulled me into a sympathetic hug. She looked up at Cole. "Come on, Cole. She's just a kid with a sick brain. Don't be so mean to her. I can handle a little unfairness." Cole was so touched by her grace that he completely missed the way the blood drained from my lips while I was trapped in her embrace. Seeing that Cole believed her every word, Randee dropped her mask entirely whenever he left the house. She would secretly pinch the soft flesh of my inner arms. When I instinctively tried to pull away, she would lean in and whisper, "Besser, remember what your brother said? You have to listen to me." "Hold your arm out!" And so, weeping quietly, I would hold my arm out to her. She seemed to hate me to my core. Every pinch was calculated to inflict maximum pain. Just as I was about to pass out from crying, Cole walked in. Randee immediately yanked my sleeves down and threw herself into his arms. It took her less than a second to play the victim. "Cole, your sister is impossible! She just won't listen to anything I say!" One day, I had a sudden moment of clarity. I pulled up my sleeves to show Cole the dark, ugly bruises mottling my skin. Cole froze. Randee quickly chimed in with a deeply apologetic tone. "It's all my fault. I didn't keep a close enough eye on her." "You know how she is, Cole. She can barely walk straight these days. She bumps into the corners of the tables and bruises herself instantly." Cole thought back. It was true that almost every time he opened the door, he found me sitting on the floor crying. The very next day, he bought foam padding and wrapped every sharp corner and piece of furniture in the house. Randee gritted her teeth and glared at me. "Your brother really treats you well, doesn't he?" I nodded happily. "Brother treats Besser good. Doesn't want Besser to die." Randee let out three cold, mocking laughs. She grabbed a plastic clothes hanger and began raining blows down on my head and shoulders. It hurt so much. I screamed for my brother. Randee just sneered. "He's on a business trip. He won't be back for two weeks." "You little bitch, you actually tried to snitch on me!" She grabbed my chin with her left hand and slapped me across the face with her right, over and over until my cheek was swollen and burning. I couldn't stop shivering and crying. My pain only seemed to excite her. She kept hitting me until a knock sounded at the front door. Panicking slightly, she shoved a rag into my mouth, threw a heavy blanket over me, and went to answer it. It was Mrs. Higgins, our neighbor. "What's going on? Why is Besser crying so terribly?" Randee offered a helpless, weary smile. "She's having an episode again. She keeps screaming that I'm the one who killed her parents. I can't calm her down." Mrs. Higgins looked sympathetic. She pulled out a small tin. "It's so hard on you two. I baked some cookies. Let me go in and try to coax her." She made a move to step inside. Randee quickly blocked the doorway. "Oh, you don't have to do that, Mrs. Higgins. I'll take good care of her." She took the tin of cookies, shut the door, and locked the deadbolt. She sat on the sofa, crossing her legs, casually eating the cookies meant for me. Between bites, she warned, "You better behave yourself these next few days. Don't cause me any trouble." When she was done, she grabbed a thick rope, tied me to the leg of the heavy dining table, and left the house. I needed to use the bathroom, but the rope was too short. The rough fibers rubbed the skin off my neck. It burned. I couldn't hold it anymore. I soiled the floor. When she came back, she kicked me twice in the ribs. Then she took a picture of the mess and sent it to Cole. She called him, crying hysterically. "Cole, what do I do? I really can't take this anymore. I took my eyes off her for one second and she went to the bathroom all over the floor. Is she doing this on purpose to punish me?" Cole replied almost instantly. "How did that happen? Baby, I'm sending you money right now. Hire a cleaning service. I am so sorry you have to deal with this." He sent her dozens of apologizing emojis. After the cleaners came and went, Randee walked toward me with a dark, murderous look. She slapped me hard across the face. "You useless piece of trash! You can't even control your own bowels!" After venting her anger, she looked down at me. I was lying on the floor like a dead fish. Her voice turned ice cold. "If you ever try to snitch to your brother again, I will beat you worse than this." "Let me tell you the truth. Every single girlfriend your brother ever had left him because of you." "I am the only one willing to put up with this." "Do you know how much money your brother has burned trying to fix your broken brain?" "Don't you realize you are nothing but a burden?" "Besser, if you really love your brother, you need to grow up. Stop ruining his future." Her words sank deep into my mind. I really was a burden. When Cole returned from his business trip, he brought Randee a thick gold necklace. Randee grinned from ear to ear. "Gold is so expensive right now. You really bought this for me?" Cole told her he knew taking care of me was incredibly hard. He promised to buy her a piece of gold jewelry every single month from now on. Randee's smile grew even wider. But a second later, her smile froze completely. Cole pulled a solid gold bracelet out of his bag. It was much heavier, and far more expensive, than her necklace. He slipped the bracelet onto my wrist and smiled gently. "Merry Christmas, Besser. I just want you to be safe and happy for the rest of your life." Randee's voice was stiff. "Cole, you're putting a bracelet like that on a retard—I mean, your sister. Aren't you worried she'll lose it?" I felt a spark of anger. For the first time, I talked back to her. "No. Besser won't be careless." Hearing my response, Cole grabbed Randee's hands excitedly. "Did you hear that? That's the longest sentence she's spoken in months!" "She's definitely getting better." He hugged me tightly, thrilled. But then his eyes fell on the raw, red marks around my neck. He frowned. "Besser, how did you hurt your neck?" I wanted to tell him. I wanted to say Randee bullied me. But before the words could leave my mouth, Cole's attention was pulled away by a small bandage on Randee's finger. "Your sister wanted me to peel an apple for her, and I accidentally cut myself," she lied smoothly. She was lying. She hurt her finger when she went out partying with her friends. I opened my mouth and stammered, "Not... not because of me." But no one heard me. Luckily, Cole had accumulated a lot of paid time off after his trip. For a little while, I didn't have to get beaten. I didn't have to eat food off the floor like a dog, or have Randee record humiliating videos of me on her phone. But I also knew Cole couldn't stay home with me forever. Suddenly, I remembered what my mother told me a long time ago. "Besser, if anyone ever bullies you, you must, absolutely must, tell your family." Yes. I needed to listen to my mom. I needed to tell Cole what Randee was doing. But whenever Randee was in the room, I never got the chance to speak. The moment I stepped out of my room, her eyes would lock onto my gold bracelet with a terrifying, greedy intensity. I could only cover the bracelet with my sleeve, hide in my room, and listen to the noises outside. Finally, the day came. Randee received a money transfer from Cole and went out shopping. Hearing the front door shut, I immediately ran out, grabbing Cole's sleeve. "Randee. Bad. She hurts me." Naturally, Cole didn't believe me. After all, I used to call him a bad man too. He squatted down and looked at me gently. "Besser, if you falsely accuse people, it will make Randee very sad." I shook my head violently, my eyes wide and serious. "No lie." I ran to the storage closet, found the thick, rough rope she used to tie me up, and slipped it over my own neck. Then I placed the other end by the leg of the dining table. I got down on my hands and knees, looking up at him. "Randee makes me eat like this." "She ties me here." "I need the bathroom. Can't walk. Neck hurts." I pointed to the scabbing wounds on my neck, stuttering as I desperately tried to explain. Cole's expression grew darker and more serious by the second. He rolled up my sleeves. Despite the foam padding covering every edge in the house, I had more purple and yellow bruises than ever before. "Randee hit you?" he asked quietly. I nodded. Cole took a deep breath. "I understand." Later that evening, I hid in my room. Through the thin walls, I heard Cole and Randee get into their very first fight. "You're taking the word of a retard over mine?!" Randee's voice was shrill, much louder than his. She screamed hysterically. "Your sister never liked me! She thinks I stole your love, and you actually believe her?!" "I must have been blind to choose you. My parents told me we would never be happy. I cut ties with them just to come here and help you take care of her, and this is the thanks I get? You suspect me?!" She cried with absolute heartbreak. I sat on my bed, staring blankly at my own bruises. Did I really do this to myself? Eventually, the house fell completely silent. I crept out of my room and found Cole sitting on the floor, looking utterly defeated. When he saw me, he offered an exhausted smile. "Did we wake you up, Besser?" Seeing the look on his face, I suddenly remembered the woman who had been by his side before Randee. When that woman first met me, she couldn't hide the disgust on her face.
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