1 Three years after I died, my parents finally came to the boarding school to see me. They weren't here for me. They were here because my sister's kidney was failing. She desperately needed a donor. Clutching a donation agreement, they searched for me everywhere, but I was nowhere to be found. When they asked a teacher where I was, he just scoffed. “Her? The orphan girl? The one with no one? She had late-stage stomach cancer. Collapsed on her first day here, rushed to the hospital. They couldn’t save her. Stone dead.” My parents thought he was in on some elaborate lie with me. My father’s face flushed with anger. “That damn girl… ditching school to run around with God knows who!” “Do me a favor and pass on a message. If she doesn’t show her face in three days, we’re disowning her. She won’t get another cent from us!” The teachers exchanged confused glances. “What money? There was never a single cent in her account.” “Where could she have gone? She’s not in class!” Fuming, my parents kicked open the door to my dorm room. It was empty. In the corner, the bed with my name tag was blanketed in a thick layer of dust that billowed into the air, catching in their throats. They quickly shielded my sister, Maggie, pulling her back. “Stay out, sweetie. Don’t let this jinx’s filth touch you.” The commotion brought the dorm mother upstairs, hands on her hips. “Are you sure you have the right room? The only girl who lived here was an orphan. No parents to speak of.” My mother arched an eyebrow, her voice dripping with venom. “She’s a pathological liar. Probably shacked up with some boy she met off-campus. Hasn't even been back to her own room.” My father chimed in, “A disgrace to the family. If Maggie wasn’t sick, I wouldn’t have wasted my time looking for her! Utterly humiliating.” The dorm mother stood frozen for a long moment before speaking. “She wasn’t shacked up with anyone. She arrived here with terminal stomach cancer. When she had a flare-up, she had no money for treatment. She passed away three years ago.” For a second, they all looked stunned. Then, they burst into scornful laughter. “Don’t be ridiculous. She was as strong as an ox. How could she have cancer?” “How much did Anna pay you to lie for her?!” My father shoved a few bills into the dorm mother’s hand, his expression a mask of impatience. “I don’t care where she’s hiding. Just tell her that if she doesn’t show up in three days, we are cutting her off completely!” The dorm mother rubbed the crisp, new bills between her fingers, her eyes scanning my parents’ expensive clothes, the designer watches, the gleaming jewelry. “If only you’d shown up with this kind of money three years ago,” she said, shaking her head with pity. “The poor girl never had any money. Not a penny in her account.” “She couldn’t even afford the cheapest painkillers. In the end, she died screaming for her mom and dad. The pain was just too much.” She was right. In my final moments, consumed by agony and despair, I had become a lost, wandering soul. My parents, however, dismissed her words without a second thought. They rushed Maggie back to the hospital, pulling every string they could to find another kidney, desperate to save her life. If they had spared even a fraction of that energy for me, a simple records check would have pulled up my death certificate. But they didn't. Wasting half a day searching for their “ungrateful daughter” was the greatest sacrifice they were willing to make. Maggie was their treasured pearl, coddled and adored. I was the unwelcome second child, the unplanned pregnancy that had cost them their dream jobs—a jinx from birth. So, I was expected to accept their favoritism. Three years ago, I’d earned a scholarship to a prestigious academy. For a brief moment, my parents finally seemed to notice me. My joy didn’t last long. At my own birthday party, Maggie fell down the stairs, breaking both her legs. “Anna pushed me!” she’d wailed, nestled in our mother’s arms, a flicker of cunning in her eyes. She had jumped. I saw her. But no one listened to me. My parents were furious. They immediately canceled my enrollment at the academy and shipped me off to this bleak boarding school. Maggie’s injuries were severe, so they stayed by her side day and night. I had to register for my new school all by myself. The admissions office tried calling my parents countless times. No one answered. Hours later, my mother finally called back, her voice tight with irritation. “My daughter is recovering from surgery. Stop harassing us!” “I only have one daughter, Maggie. I don’t know any Anna!” The line went dead. The teachers looked at me with pity and simply wrote “No parents listed” on my registration form. I wiped my tears and tried to pay my tuition, but the card reader beeped with a cold, metallic finality: “Insufficient funds.” No money. No love. I worked every odd job I could find, pushing my body to its limit. I finally scraped together enough for tuition, but my health, battered by long hours and poor nutrition, gave out. Terminal stomach cancer. It required a fortune I didn’t have. My parents’ numbers were unreachable. The school, believing I was an orphan, held a small fundraiser, but there was little more they could do. Alone, I curled up in a corner of the hospital ward, the pain so intense it felt like my bones were vibrating. But I still held on to a sliver of hope. They’ll come. My parents will come. I can still be saved! But as I waited, the pain consumed me, and death arrived in silence. I was crammed into a crowded ward, unnoticed. Maggie, meanwhile, enjoyed a private VIP suite, with doctors and nurses checking on her constantly. “My sister still hasn’t forgiven me,” she’d sigh, her eyes red-rimmed, her voice trembling with manufactured guilt. “It’s my fault. I made her jealous… I can’t even blame her for pushing me down the stairs three years ago…” My father’s heart ached for her. He gently patted her tearless cheek. “She treated you so horribly, and you’re still defending her. You’re just too kind, sweetie.” “Don’t you worry, Maggie. Mom and Dad will find that little brat and make her give you her kidney.” After soothing Maggie, my father stepped out of the room, his face hardening. He stabbed at his phone screen. The name “Anna” lit up the display. It was my number. A mechanical voice echoed through the empty hallway. The number you have dialed is not in service. I was dead. Who did they expect to answer? The three-day deadline passed. Of course, they couldn’t find me. So they stormed back to the school, angrier than ever. “You call yourselves educators, yet you conspire with a student to lie to us?!” my mother shrieked, berating every teacher in sight. “My daughter’s condition is getting worse! We’re running out of time! How much did Anna pay you? I’ll double it! No, ten times!” The teachers tried to reason with them until they were hoarse. Finally, one of them slammed his hands on the desk. It was my homeroom teacher, Mr. Peterson. He had always been kind to me, and had helped me the most when I got sick. Seeing my parents’ arrogant display was the last straw. “This may not be a top-tier school, but we do not joke about life and death!” “You abandon your own child, and now you have the nerve to come here and cause a scene!?” “Go to the hospital and look up her medical records!” I’d always had stomach problems. My medical file clearly documented every stage, from ulcers to full-blown cancer. I had once timidly shown my parents the file, hoping they would take me to a proper hospital for more tests. Instead, they discovered that the painkillers I was taking were nothing but vitamin pills. Maggie had tugged on my father’s sleeve, feigning innocence. “Daddy, I think Anna is just trying to get your attention. That’s why she’s pretending to be sick with those vitamins.” They pulled Maggie into a hug, and without a second glance at me, tore the medical file to pieces, throwing the scraps in my face. “You’re already learning to lie at such a young age? If you ever try to trick us with these fake reports again, we’ll be done with you for good!” But my pale face, the blood in my vomit… none of that was fake. They just chose not to see it. After that day, I never mentioned my stomach pain again. Until it was too late. Seeing that Mr. Peterson was about to call security, my parents finally retreated, defeated and sullen. Back at the hospital, Maggie was sleeping peacefully. A small cake sat on her bedside table with a card. In crooked handwriting, it read: “Thank you for everything, Mom and Dad. I know I’ve been a lot of trouble while I’ve been sick.” Seeing their beloved daughter so thoughtful even in her illness, all their frustration vanished. My mother wiped a tear from her eye. “A daughter really is a blessing.” My father nodded, but then his thoughts turned to me, and his voice filled with contempt. “Maggie is so good, not like that jinx Anna. She hasn’t brought us a single day of peace since she was born! Her own sister is dying, and she just disappears.” Their eyes were full of disdain. Yet, the teacher’s words echoed in their minds. Look up her medical records. To access my records, they needed proof of guardianship. But three years ago, when they had heartlessly thrown me out, they had also had a new set of family registration documents issued. A perfect family of three. I had been officially removed, left to fend for myself on paper and in life. My mother ransacked the house, slamming drawers shut. “Where is that damn jinx’s birth certificate?” “I don’t know. I probably threw it out ages ago,” my father grumbled. Pinching his nose, he kicked open the door to my old bedroom. It was now a storage room, piled high with junk. He yanked open the nightstand, but the documents weren't there. Instead, he found my diary. “I got a perfect score on my math test today. Mom and Dad finally agreed to take me out to play.” “I’m so jealous of Maggie. I wish I had as many pretty dresses as she does.” The closet door was open. All my clothes were hanging inside. They barely took up half the space. “Mom always calls me a jinx. I’m going to study hard and make a lot of money when I grow up so I can bring them good luck. Maybe then she won’t yell at me anymore.” The pages were wrinkled and stained with tears. They were lost in the words when the phone rang, shattering the silence. It was the hospital. Maggie had slipped into a coma. They dropped the diary back into the pile of junk and raced to her side. She wasn't in her room. They sprinted to the surgical floor, breathless, finally finding a doctor who assured them she was stable. Only then did they lean against the wall, catching their breath. “We got to her in time. She’s not in any danger, but she’ll need to be in observation for a few days.” The doctor’s face was grim as he urged them again to find a donor quickly. My father nodded frantically, discreetly sending bonuses to the private investigators he had hired. Find Anna, no matter the cost. The next day, it wasn’t the P.I. who showed up, but an unexpected visitor. Mr. Peterson, carrying a thick stack of files. “Stop looking,” he said. His eyes swept over the luxurious private suite, a stark contrast to the grim ward where I had spent my last days. No money, no care. I had clung to life in a crowded room, while Maggie rested here like a princess. He blinked back tears. “This is Anna’s complete medical history.” “And this… is her death certificate.” “It’s all here. Please, just let her rest in peace.” I floated above them, watching their reactions. The death certificate, stamped with the official hospital seal, was on top. Irrefutable. Undeniable. A sharp tearing sound broke the silence. My father ripped the certificate to shreds and threw the pieces in Mr. Peterson’s face. “You’re a liar, just like she is!” “She tried to fool us with fake medical reports before, and now you think we'll fall for a forged death certificate?!”
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