I’m the only sane person in my family. My mom is a total yandere, obsessed with forcing her twisted love onto my dad 24/7. My dad has severe mental health issues. If he’s not having a breakdown at home, he’s in an ambulance being rushed to the ER. My brother inherited the "best" of both worlds. He’s a total doomer who hates the world, and his idea of romance is trying to convince the love of his life to jump off a building with him. As the only normal human being capable of stopping them from going full psycho, I have a slight problem. I’m dead. 1 I died, and my soul is currently floating next to my mom. She doesn't know I'm gone yet. She’s in her corner office, staring at her monitor. The screen shows a live feed of our house—specifically, my dad sitting on the balcony, staring into space. She reaches out, caressing the screen obsessively, and even gently kisses the pixels where his face is. I facepalm. Standard operating procedure. If she were at home, she’d be clinging to him like a koala twenty-four-seven. "Ms. Chang, Sunny hasn't been home since the day before yesterday. Her phone is going straight to voicemail." My mom’s cell rings. It’s the housekeeper. Mom doesn't even look away from the computer screen. "It's fine. Sunny probably just wants some space. She’s fine." Sunny is me. I am Sunny. She hangs up, scrolls through her gallery, finds a PDA-heavy selfie of her and Dad, and texts it to Dad’s ex-girlfriend. Yes, you heard that right. Dad’s ex. “Sorry, looks like our love is still unbreakable today.” She hits send with a smug look. Ever since Mom stole Dad from his ex years ago, her hobby has been "force-loving" my dad and then DMing intimate pics to the ex to flex. The ex replies almost instantly. “One day, you’re going to regret everything.” Mom lets out a cold, dismissive laugh and types back: “I’ll worry about that when I regret it.” What Mom doesn’t know is that the ex was triggered. In fact, she was so triggered that my dismembered body is currently chilling in her deep freezer. Today is Day 2 of being dead. 2 My ghost follows Mom back home. She sees Dad and immediately tackles him into a hug. He shoves her away violently. "Get off! Don't touch me!" Dad roars with rage. For years, Dad has rarely given Mom a decent look. According to my brother, Dad was a rookie idol back in the day. Mom, the embodiment of evil capitalism, saw his pretty face and decided she had to have him. Dad had a girlfriend and tried to resist, but money talks—or rather, it screams. He was forced to submit. "Good. Play hard to get." The next second, Mom’s face goes dark. She grabs the chain attached to Dad’s ankle and drags him toward the basement. If I were alive, I’d step in, speak up for Dad, act cute, and Mom would let him go for my sake. But I’m not here. Mom drags Dad into the basement. I watch the whole thing, feeling second-hand embarrassment. Damn, Mom eats good. I’m not trying to look, okay? My soul is tethered to her; I can’t leave. I cover my eyes, but... I peek through the fingers. When Mom’s finally done, she drags Dad back to the bedroom. They lie in bed. Dad has his back to her, looking miserable. He’s on the verge of another episode. Sure enough, he suddenly flips over, hands around Mom’s throat, face twisted in madness. "Why are you still alive?!" Mom calmly pulls out a taser from under her pillow. As soon as Dad sees the sparks, he lets go and lies back down like nothing happened. I facepalm again. Is this what they call "survival of the fittest"? Seeing Dad settle down, Mom finally remembers I exist. She calls my phone. "Probably out partying somewhere." When I don't pick up, she mumbles a complaint and immediately forgets about me. She snuggles up to Dad, snaps another selfie, and sends it to the Ex. The Ex replies with a photo. It’s my clothes. There’s a little blood on them. Mom obviously doesn't recognize my outfit. She mutters, "What is this trash?" and goes to sleep hugging Dad. I didn’t have much hope for her anyway. Her brain is 99% Dad, 1% everything else. I probably occupy about 0.01% of her heart. 3 Day 4 of being dead. The house is a chaotic mess. Dad’s episodes are getting more frequent. When I was alive, things were manageable because I was the emotional buffer. He used to dislike me too, but I was persistent. Compared to Mom’s suffocating obsession, a kid wanting to play catch was easier for him to stomach. Mom loved that he loved us, so she never stopped our bonding. Sometimes she’d even drag my brother—who always looked like he was attending a funeral—to join in. We almost looked like a happy family back then. But this time, Dad snapped hard. He even injured my brother. The doctor had to sedate him just to get him to stop screaming. "Mom, it’s been years. Just let him go," my brother says, collapsing onto the sofa, arm over his eyes. He looks done with life. My brother, Damian, inherited the core traits of both parents. He’s been a nihilist since birth. When I was a kid and asked why he was always sad, he told me his future was pitch black. I said, "That sounds like a great time to nap," and he dragged me to the roof of a 50-story building to "sleep." As we got older, he got more unstable. He only tolerated me. Then he met his "Luna"—his soulmate, the one who could heal him. But then his brain rot kicked in, and he decided he was scared she’d stop loving him, so the logical solution was a murder-suicide pact. I told him, "Great, your future is bright now, literally. Because you’ll be walking into the light." He actually smiled at that. He took Luna on a trip, but they just got back to this madness. Mom glares at him. "Get lost. You don't understand anything." Damian doesn't bother arguing. You can't fix crazy. He sits up, sighing. "Where’s Sunny?" I’m usually the fixture in the living room. He’s surprised I’m missing. Mom is too focused on Dad’s sleeping form. "She said she was visiting a friend. Still hasn't come back." Damian calls me. "The subscriber you have dialed is busy..." He doesn't call again. He leaves a voice note: Come home soon. Then he walks away. I sigh. Bro is definitely thinking about deleting himself from the server again. Shortly after he leaves, Mom gets a text from the Ex. It’s a photo of me when I was alive. “Sunny looks just like her father.” Mom scoffs. "Psycho." "She’s his biological daughter. Who else would she look like?" 4 Day 5. Dad wakes up. He’s lucid, not manic. He asks about me. "Where is your daughter?" I suddenly feel hopeful. I whisper in his ear, I’m right here, Dad. He scratches his ear confusedly. Mom explains again. "She’s with friends. Haven't seen her." Dad frowns. He snorts coldly. "You better go find her. Don't let her die out there with no one to collect the body." I go, "Whoa." Dad’s intuition is elite. Father-daughter connection is real. Mom explodes. "Julian! Can you say one nice thing?! Do you want her to die? Would you be happy if the kids and I all died?! Sunny is the only good thing in this house! I don't ask you to love her, but can you not be so heartless to your own flesh and blood?!" Dad realizes he crossed a line. He purses his lips, a flash of guilt in his eyes. "I didn't mean it like that. I just meant you should check..." His phone rings, cutting him off. "Hello, is this Damian's mother? Your son is on a roof dragging a girl with him. You need to come now." See? Siblings know siblings. Mom is already stressed. Hearing Damian is trying to fly without wings again pushes her over the edge. "Every single day, just trouble..." She sighs, forces herself to calm down, and mutters, "I never realized the house would be this chaotic without Sunny here." Dad actually agrees with her. "Yeah." First time hearing them praise me. I’m blushing. Mom grabs her coat. I float along as she rushes to the scene. Damian and Luna are standing on the edge of a 50-story roof. Luna is shaking like a leaf, trying to talk him down. "You brat! What is wrong with you?!" Mom screams the second she bursts onto the roof. I want to tell her to use a gentle parenting voice, but Mom has zero patience for Damian. She thinks he’s useless because he couldn't win Dad’s heart. Damian just looks back at her with dead eyes, then takes a small step forward, dragging Luna. "Damian! Calm down!" Luna screams, gripping his hand for dear life. Damian looks at her with tragic, puppy-dog eyes. "Luna... my life is a mess." "I don't understand why I was born." "Every time I see my parents, I feel suffocated. I want to live, I do... but when I see them, I lose control." I really want to say: Can you solve your trauma without killing my future sister-in-law? "Damian, think about Sunny! Do you want your sister to come home and find your cold dead body?!" Luna pleads. Mentioning me actually works. He hesitates. I feel a little proud. Damian looks around. "I brought her here once. I wanted to jump with her. I thought she was pathetic like me." Thanks for the memory, bro. "I stood here for a long time. When I turned around, she was asleep. I couldn't do it. She was so small. She didn't know anything." Yeah, you dragged me up here at 3 AM. Of course I slept. "So you have to stay calm! Or Sunny will live with the regret of not seeing you one last time!" Luna is the MVP. She talks him off the ledge. Mom sees him step down and immediately rubs her temples. She hands the cleanup to her assistant and turns to leave. Damian calls out. "Mom. Which friend did Sunny go to see?" I get excited. My brother is the reliable one! "We just need to call the friend, realize I'm missing, and trace the timeline!" 5 I did go to see a friend. Well, an internet friend. Her handle was "Tessa." We met gaming. She was my age. We vibed. Since it was summer break, she invited me to her house in a tourist city. I thought, free vacation, and agreed. But when I landed, I didn't see Tessa. I saw Evelyn—Dad’s Ex. She greeted me with a surprise smile, asking if I was Julian's daughter. She seemed gentle, inviting me for coffee. Hearing my dad’s name made me lower my guard. Plus, I was curious about Dad’s past. Who knew this nice lady would drug my latte? Mom racks her brain but can't remember the friend's name. She never remembers people she doesn't care about. Damian, being the tech-savvy depressed kid he is, manages to log into my social media and video calls Tessa. Then, things get creepy. Tessa answers. She says I’m in the shower and can't video chat. She walks the phone to a bathroom door and knocks. "Sunny, your brother is on the phone." And from inside the bathroom... my voice answers. "Tell him I'm washing my hair! I lost my phone, I'll buy a new one tomorrow and call him back!" I shiver. My soul literally shivers. I never met Tessa. Is there a second me? Mom doesn't overthink it. She says "Be safe" and heads to the office. Damian wants to say more, but the call ends. I float away with Mom. She gets another text from Evelyn. “She must really regret being your daughter.” Attached is a photo of my shoes. Mom doesn't recognize the shoes either. She sends back another couple pic. “With a dad this handsome? I doubt she has any regrets.” Honestly? A few regrets. I just wanted a normal family. But right now, I’m confused. Why did Tessa lie to my family? I’m dead. Who was in that bathroom?
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