I was born unwanted. When I was three, my mother left me and fled the country. When I was five, my brothers poured chili water down my throat. I smiled and told them it was delicious. My third brother, Noah, would deliberately leave me stranded outside the kindergarten. My older brothers, David and Joseph, would corner me with the other children, blocking the way to the bathroom, laughing as I was humiliated. Then one day, the little girl next door got sick. I was sick too. Without a moment's hesitation, my father swept her into his arms and rushed her to the hospital. He told me to go die somewhere far away. But later, so much later, my father would look at me, tears streaming down his face. "Rosie," he’d beg, his voice breaking. "Can you please... just call me 'Dad' one more time?" I would just clutch the hem of my shirt, my mouth opening and closing like a fish, unable to make a sound. 01 The sky bled from gray to black. Rain fell in thick, heavy drops, pelting my face and stinging my eyes. It soaked through my little hooded coat, seeping into my bones until a shiver wracked my small body. A few adults hurried past, assuming I was lost, urging me to get out of the downpour. I told them I couldn't. I promised my brother I would wait for him right here. Good children get candy. I waited until the sky turned light again, but my brother never came. Finally, our butler, Mr. Henderson, found me. He seemed to sigh, a sound lost in the morning traffic. "Miss Rosalind, your father has been looking everywhere for you." "My brother..." I whispered, my voice hoarse. "Master Joseph returned home last night. Please, come with me. Your father will be very displeased otherwise." I was more afraid of my father's displeasure than I was of my brothers. I let Mr. Henderson lead me to the car. Before we even stepped inside the house, I could hear their laughter. "That idiot," Joseph was saying. "I bet she's still waiting at the mall entrance. How can someone that stupid be our sister?" Noah, the youngest of them, was fiddling with a toy truck. "You know how she is. She believes anything we say. She's so obedient, she'll come crawling back to us no matter what we do." David, the eldest, spoke with a low voice laced with contempt. "Why does she have to be my sister? Chloe from next door is so much cuter. I wish she were my sister." Then, his voice dropped further, filled with a venom that made my skin crawl. "If it weren't for her, Mom would have never left." I stood dripping in the doorway, a gust of wind making me feel colder than ever. When they saw me, their dark eyes flickered away, refusing to meet mine. My father descended the grand staircase, his first words an accusation. "What happened?" I didn't dare say it was because of my brothers. "I got lost... after we went out yesterday." His face hardened. "Did I not tell you to stay with your brothers? To not wander off?" I twisted the fabric of my wet coat. "But... I waited in the right place." Joseph chimed in, his voice dripping with false sincerity. "I told her to wait right there, Dad. But the driver said he didn't see her when he came back, right?" My father believed him. Of course, he did. His voice boomed with anger. "And you still won't admit it?" He pulled a thin, hard cane from the umbrella stand. "Hold out your hand." I remembered the last time I’d been disobedient. He’d locked me in my room for a whole day. He was always so busy. So busy he forgot I was in there. I didn't get to eat until I'd fainted from hunger. I didn't want that to happen again. I obediently held out my small hand. CRACK. The sound echoed in the marble foyer as the cane struck my palm. A searing pain shot up my arm, and tears welled in my eyes. "Do not wander off. Will you remember next time?" My hand trembled. "I'll remember." "Louder!" He struck me again, harder this time. I flinched, pulling my hand back with a sob. "I'll... I'll remember!" My father had a meeting and left before lunch. The housekeeper changed my clothes and left a single slice of dry bread on the dining table for me. Joseph stood over me, making a grotesque face. "Crybaby," he taunted. "You tried to tattle, but did you really think Dad would believe you?" I scarfed down the bread, my stomach aching. Noah approached with a glass of water. He looked almost kind. I was so thirsty. I took the glass and tilted my head back, gulping it down. 02 "Is it good?" Noah asked. I nodded, forcing a smile. "It's good." Anything from my brothers had to be good. Then, the fire erupted in my mouth. It burned my tongue, my throat, my stomach. The pain was so intense I dropped to the floor, writhing. Through my agony, I could hear their laughter. "I told you she'd drink it." "She said it's good! Of course, chili water is delicious!" "Let's see if you dare tattle on us again." I scrambled for water, but they blocked every sink. Desperate, I ran to the kitchen, climbed onto the counter, and twisted the faucet, drinking straight from the tap. They laughed even harder, saying I looked like a toad lapping up water. I drank and drank, the cold water doing little to quench the fire, until my stomach was a bloated, painful ball. Tears streamed down my face. I took two steps and vomited all over the pristine white carpet. The housekeeper saw the mess and scolded me under her breath. "What is wrong with you? Just like your mother, always causing trouble. If you don't learn to behave, I'll have to tell your father." She lifted me, but my chest felt tight, like I couldn't breathe. I thought of my mother. I clutched the small jade pendant around my neck, the last thing she ever gave me. Did she leave because I wasn't a good girl? But I'm trying to be good, Mommy. When are you coming back? After the housekeeper cleaned me up, I hid under my covers. My stomach hurt. My face felt hot. My bed was huge, but no matter how I tossed and turned, I couldn't get comfortable. Sleep wouldn't come. Late in the night, I heard my father's footsteps. I crept out of bed and peeked through the crack in my door. I wanted to tell him my tummy hurt. But his face was terrifying, dark and grim like the wolf in the cartoons. "Why are you still awake? Why can't you ever learn to behave?" I stared down at my bare feet on the cold floor. Was that it? Was I still not good enough? Was that why Mom wouldn't come back? I felt my lip tremble, the tears threatening to fall again. But then he sighed and lifted me, placing me back in bed. "No more willfulness. Understood?" "Yes, Dad." He tucked the blankets around me. I opened my mouth to tell him about the pain, but his phone rang. He took the call and left the room. He was always busy. He never even ate with us. I said nothing more. As I drifted into a feverish sleep, I saw my mother. She had left when I was three. That day, I hadn't listened to her. I'd told my father that she wanted to ride the carousel with me. It made him angry, very angry. "Eleonora, are you really using your own child to manipulate me? Have you no shame?" They fought. A terrible, screaming fight. But we went to the amusement park anyway. Mom said she was going to buy me ice cream and told me to wait for her. But then a beautiful butterfly fluttered by. I chased it, and when I looked back, my mother was gone. My father arrived with a swarm of men in black suits who shut down the entire park. The first look he gave me was like a monster about to devour its prey. "Where is your mother?" I burst into tears. And just like that, I didn't have a mother anymore. My three brothers all believed it was my fault. So I tried my best to be good. To listen to my father and my brothers. If I was good enough, maybe Mom would come back. 03 The next morning, the housekeeper pulled me out of bed for school. My stomach hurt, so I went to the bathroom. What came out was a strange color, dark and streaked with red. The housekeeper's impatient voice came through the door. "Miss Rosalind, if you dawdle any longer, your brothers will leave without you." I closed the toilet lid, climbed on top, and flushed. At kindergarten, halfway through playtime, a sharp pain gripped my stomach again. I needed to go to the bathroom, now. Joseph and his friends blocked my path. The more I cried, the wider they smiled. The pain became a desperate, urgent pressure. I couldn't hold it anymore. A foul smell filled the air. A warm, yellow liquid streamed down my legs, pooling around my shoes. The world exploded like a firecracker, shattering into a million pieces. "You're so disgusting. How are you my sister?" Joseph sneered. "Rosie wet her pants!" the other children chanted. "Shame, shame, five years old and still wets her pants!" Everyone was laughing. I stood frozen in my own filth, sobbing uncontrollably. Finally, a teacher came. She cleaned me up and found me a change of clothes. She said it was okay, that I was still little and accidents happen. Everyone goes to the bathroom, she said. But I knew this was different. I saw the disgust in their eyes. No one would ever want to be my friend again. After school, the driver came to pick up my brothers. I tried to get in the car. David blocked the door with his body. "Don't you dare. You're filthy and you stink. A big girl who still poops her pants." The driver's eyes, when they met mine, held a flicker of that same disgust. It wasn't like the teacher's look. My cheeks burned with shame. I lowered my head and backed away. My brother slammed the door shut. "It's not far. You can walk." I was used to being left behind. I walked from daylight into darkness. When I finally reached home and pushed open the door, Chloe from next door was sitting on our sofa, crying. My three brothers were gathered around her, trying to comfort her. For some reason, the moment they saw me, their faces twisted with rage. "Did you steal something from Chloe?" 04 I was so hungry and thirsty I could barely stand. The room spun. "I didn't steal anything." David lunged at me and ripped the jade pendant from my neck. "Chloe says this is hers. If you didn't steal it, what is it?" For the first time, I fought back. I grabbed his hand, trying to pry the jade from his fingers, a hot, unfamiliar anger surging through me. "That's mine! Mom gave it to me! I didn't steal it!" David froze for a second. Noah sneered, "Mom hates you. Why would she give you anything? If Chloe says it's hers, then it's hers." Just then, my father returned. His eyes fell on the scene. "What is going on?" I wiped my tears with the back of my hand, my voice pleading. "I didn't steal it! I really didn't!" Chloe sobbed, clutching Joseph's sleeve. "But I have one exactly like it... it was from my daddy." My father's expression changed. "You had better tell the truth." "I didn't steal it... Mom gave it to me." Chloe's grandmother came over from next door. "Our Chloe does have a jade pendant," she said, her voice heavy with certainty. "It looks exactly like that one." Everyone's gaze shifted to me. It was the same look from the kids at kindergarten. Disgust. Contempt. "Liars get their tongues cut out," David said coldly. "Give it back to her." I couldn't understand. Mom gave it to me. How could it be stealing? "No. It's mine. I'm not giving it to her." My father's tall frame loomed over me. Then his hand came down, a sharp, stinging slap across my face. "So now you've learned to lie, have you?" I fell to the floor, scraping my arm. Tears poured from my eyes as I choked out the words. "Dad... even if you... kill me... I didn't... steal it." His hand, hanging by his side, clenched into a fist. I closed my eyes, ready for the next blow, clutching the jade tightly in my hand. He didn't care about me. If he did, he would have known Mom had given it to me. But finally, he relented. "She seems to have a strong attachment to the object. I apologize. We will compensate you for its value." The grandmother demurred. "Oh, it wasn't expensive. If the child likes it, she can have it." My father's voice was ice. "Henderson, fetch the jadeite piece. The one from the auction the other day." "Yes, sir." He ended up giving Chloe a piece of jade ten times the size of my small pendant. Chloe stopped crying. My brothers loaded her up with snacks and toys to take home—snacks and toys they never shared with me. My stomach rumbled loudly. They all looked at me. Terrified, I scrambled up the stairs and hid in my room. Later, the housekeeper told me to come down for dinner. I held my aching stomach and refused to come out. I waited a long time. Finally, I heard my father's voice drift up from downstairs. "Let her be." In the middle of the night, I woke up. Every part of me ached. It was hard to breathe. I felt like I was dying, like the little hamster in my kindergarten class that had gone all stiff. I pushed open my door. A light was on in the living room. I stood at the top of the stairs and saw my father and Chloe's grandmother. She was on her knees, crying. "That pendant was the last thing Chloe's father left her," she wept. "The shock sent her into a high fever. I'm afraid if we don't get her to a hospital soon, it will be too late! Please, can you drive us? If anything happens to her, I don't know what I'll do." My teacher said if you don't feel well, you go to the hospital. I could go to the hospital with Chloe. If I got better, I could see Mom again. She still hadn't forgiven me, had she? My legs felt weak, and I nearly tumbled down the stairs. "Dad," my voice was a weak croak. "My tummy hurts... everything hurts... I want to go to the hospital..." I couldn't describe the feeling properly, and I knew they thought I was lying. The grandmother fell to her knees again, pleading. "Miss Rosalind, please don't be like this. Any later and Chloe might not make it." My father looked at me, his eyes filled with pure hatred. "You're just like your manipulative mother. Disgusting." He started for the door. I scrambled after him, the pain in my stomach twisting into a sharp knot. My body felt like it was on fire. "Dad..." I grabbed his sleeve. "I can go to the hospital with Chloe..." "Do you think faking sick for attention is amusing? Deliberately starving yourself? You think this will erase what you've done?" He shook me off. "If you're going to die, die somewhere far away." I fell to the floor, stunned into silence. I forgot how to cry. From the second-floor landing, my three brothers watched the show. "You hurt Chloe," David said. "This is your punishment." "How did the George family end up with a sister like you?" Noah added. "A little liar and a thief." Joseph smiled, a bright, cruel smile. "I'll tell you what. If you can get Mom to come back, we'll forgive you. Okay?" I looked up at him, a flicker of childish hope in my eyes. "And you'll be nice to me, like you are to Chloe? You'll give me snacks and toys? And you'll comfort me?" All three of them nodded. "Of course. You're our sister." They led me down to the basement and locked me inside. David tossed a phone down to me. "The first number is Mom's. When you get her to answer, we'll let you out. This is your punishment for stealing." I fumbled for the phone and pressed the screen. It lit up. My father had tried calling Mom countless times, but she never picked up. It was probably hopeless. But I dialed anyway. Again and again. The screen lit up and went dark, over and over. And then, someone answered. 05 "I told you I am not coming back. Stop calling me." The voice was so familiar. Tears instantly flooded my eyes. "Mommy," I choked out. "Mommy, it's Rosie, Mommy..." I kept repeating her name, terrified she would hang up. Words tumbled out of me in a rush. "Rosie should have waited for you, Mommy. I shouldn't have chased the butterfly. I was bad." The pain in my stomach was getting worse. The air I breathed out felt hot, making my head ache. "Mommy, my tummy hurts. Everything hurts. My brothers miss you too. Mommy, when are you coming back?" I asked, my voice small and hopeful. I heard a soft sob on the other end of the line. "I'm not coming back, sweetheart." "Your father will take care of you. Please, don't pretend to be sick to trick me, okay? No one likes a liar." Her voice was so gentle. She wasn't hanging up. I sat up straight, frantic. "I'm not lying! The boys don't like me. Dad called me a thief. Mommy, I've learned my lesson. I won't chase butterflies anymore. I'll listen to you. Can you take me with you? Please?" Suddenly, her voice turned sharp. "I said, I am not coming back. Tell Jimmy George to stop wasting his time." I didn't understand. "But Mommy, I'm so hungry. My brothers won't let me out. I'm going to be like the little hamster, and they'll bury me in the ground." Her voice was shrill now, angry. "I said, I don't want you! Call your father! And another thing—it's not because you chased a butterfly! It's because I don't want you! I don't want any of you! Do you understand?!" Mommy doesn't want me? It wasn't that I was bad. She just didn't want me. My hand fell limp to my side. I don't know when the screen went dark. The little point of light vanished, and I was left in total darkness. It wasn't because I was bad. Even if I was good... Mommy wouldn't come back. They were all liars. They lied to me. A raw, guttural scream tore from my throat, echoing in the small, dark space. I cried until I had no strength left, my throat raw and aching. I collapsed onto the cold concrete floor and fell asleep. My mind was a chaotic storm. One moment, I saw my brothers, their faces contorted in cruel laughter as they cornered me. The next, I saw my mother, watching me chase the butterfly before turning and walking away. Then it was my father, his hand raised, his eyes cold with hate. And through it all, my mother's voice, amplified as if through a loudspeaker, screamed in my ear. "It's not because you were bad! It's because we don't want you! Do you understand?!" I woke up with a choked cry. I was still in the basement. It was so dark I couldn't see my own hand in front of my face. I was too weak and hungry to even try to stand. I reached out, but my fingers met nothing but empty air. I really was hated by everyone. A hated child. Like the ugly little black hamster at school, bullied by all the others in the cage. It ended up hiding in a corner until its body went stiff, and then the teacher dug a little hole and buried it. Something inside my small chest was beating frantically, like it wanted to leap out of my body. The last sliver of light, the last bit of life, seeped out of my eyes.
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