Drowning

I was four when my sister and I both drowned. I was the only one who came back. And for that, my mother has hated me ever since. In the dead of night, she would loom over my bed with a handful of candy-colored pills, trying to force my mouth open. Each time, my father would stop her just in time. So I grew my hair long. I wore faded floral dresses. I tried to become a perfect echo of my sister, just so my mother would grant me a single glance. It worked, until three years later, when Mom got pregnant again. She said it was Lily, my dead sister, coming back to us. I was so happy for her. Lily was coming home. That was wonderful… It meant this family no longer needed a replacement. I found the little bottle of “candy” Mom had tried to give me all those years ago. In the quiet of my room, I swallowed them all.

1 A bitter powder coated my tongue. I doubled over, gagging, a wave of acid and saliva burning my throat. These were the pills Mom had hidden in the deepest corner of her closet three years ago. Back then, she would sit on the edge of my bed late at night, her eyes hollow, and whisper, “Why won’t you just die?” Now, I was finally making her wish come true. I was still wearing the little floral dress, its hem frayed and worn. It was one of Lily’s old ones, and it had been too small for me for a long time. But Mom said… I had to keep wearing it. It was the only way I could look like her. From the living room, I heard my mother’s laugh—a gentle, warm sound I’d never heard directed at me. She was stroking her belly, talking to Dad. “The doctor said it’s definitely a girl this time. See how calm this pregnancy is?” Her voice was syrupy sweet. “Soon… I’ll never have to look at that little curse’s face again.” I wanted to see her smile one last time. I padded to the doorway. Dad saw me first, and his brow furrowed. “Noah, why aren’t you doing your homework?” His gaze flickered over my floral dress and then darted away, as if the sight stung his eyes. Mom turned. The smile on her face froze, then vanished. “Who said you could come out? And your hair’s gotten short again. Didn’t I tell you to grow it long, just like Lily’s?” She marched over, her finger jabbing hard against my forehead. “You’re nothing but trouble. When Lily is born, if you dare to even look at her the wrong way, I will break both your legs.” I flinched back, a throbbing ache blooming where she’d poked me. The “candy” in my stomach began to dissolve, sending waves of fire through my gut. The pain was so sharp it bent me in half. Dad started to move toward me, but Mom threw out an arm to block him. “Don’t touch him. He’s probably just faking it for attention.” I bit my lip to keep from crying out and shuffled back to my room. Each step was agony, like a blade churning inside me. A strange numbness was creeping into my limbs, and my hand trembled as I gripped the doorframe. I collapsed onto my bed, my body beginning to twitch uncontrollably. The door creaked open. It was Dad, holding a glass of warm water. He set it on my nightstand and hesitated for a long moment. “Noah,” he finally said, “your mother… she’s not herself with the pregnancy. Try not to take it to heart.” I tried to shake my head but could only manage a weak groan. His face began to blur, splitting into two. Dad sighed, a heavy, defeated sound. He just pulled the blanket over me. “Get some sleep. You’ll feel better tomorrow.” He closed the door on his way out, plunging the room into silence. I reached under my pillow and pulled out the old rag doll. It had been Lily’s favorite. The fabric was worn smooth and shiny from my constant care. Mom said it was Lily’s, and I had to protect it. The last time a kid at school tried to take it, I fought tooth and nail, letting him beat me until I got it back. My vision grew hazy, a dark fog creeping in from the edges. I hugged the doll tight against my chest and closed my eyes. Mom, Lily’s coming back. You won’t have to suffer looking at this replacement anymore. It’s better this way.

2 Slowly, the pain faded away. I felt weightless, like a dandelion seed caught on the wind, floating gently toward the ceiling. From up here, I could see the small body on the bed clearly. The floral dress was a crumpled mess around him. His face was ashen, his lips a bruised, unnatural violet. A smear of dried bile stained the corner of his mouth. He was still clutching that old rag doll. Mom pushed the door open, but she didn’t look at the bed. She walked straight to the desk and picked up Lily’s photograph, polishing the glass with her sleeve. “Oh, Lily,” she murmured, “Mommy went to look at new cradles for you today. Do you think you’d like pink or blue?” She turned to leave and accidentally kicked the leg of the bed. Her gaze finally fell on me, her brow creasing with annoyance. “Still sleeping? The sun’s up. Get up and make breakfast. Do you want me and your new sister to starve?” I drifted in front of her, trying to speak, but she couldn’t hear me. She just shuffled out of the room, humming a lullaby under her breath. From the living room, I could hear Dad whisking eggs and Mom’s voice directing him. “Add two extra spoons of sugar. Lily always loved her food sweet.” I floated to the kitchen doorway. Dad was placing a pancake on a plate. It was shaped like a heart. I never liked them that way, but ever since Lily died, that was the only way he made them. He said she loved heart shapes. Mom took the plate and set it in the center of the dining table with the reverence of an offering. “Go wake him up,” she said to Dad, her voice sharp with impatience. “Don’t let him make us late for buying the cradle.” Dad put down the milk carton and walked toward my room. I followed him. He stood beside my bed, his hand hovering over me for a moment before he gently rested it on the blanket. “Noah, time to get up,” he said softly. “We’re going to buy the cradle today. You can come with us, okay?” The body on the bed didn’t move. Dad’s fingers trembled. He gave my shoulder a little shake. “Noah?” Mom’s voice cut through the silence from the living room. “What’s taking so long? Is he pretending to be asleep again?” She stormed into the room and saw Dad frozen by the bed. Her temper flared. “I knew it! He’s faking it! He just doesn’t want us to buy a cradle for Lily! Forget him. Let’s go. Lily is waiting.” Dad didn’t move. His gaze was fixed on my still form. “He’s our son, too,” he said, his voice raw. “He is not!” Mom shrieked. “My only child is Lily! He’s the monster who killed her!” She snatched Lily’s photo from the desk and hurled it to the floor. The glass shattered, a shard slicing across Dad’s hand. He didn’t make a sound, just silently gathered the broken pieces and wrapped his bleeding hand in a tissue. The phone rang in the living room. It was my teacher from school. Mom answered, her voice instantly turning warm. “Hello, Mrs. Davis. Is this about Lily… oh, no, I mean, is this about Noah?” When the teacher asked why I hadn’t been in school, Mom’s tone turned to ice. “He’s just skipping. Don’t worry about him, Mrs. Davis. Let him run wild. He’s a lost cause.” After hanging up, she grabbed Dad’s arm. “Come on. We can’t let him ruin our day for Lily.” Dad glanced back at my room, his feet hesitating for a second, but she pulled him away. Just as the front door clicked shut, I saw him quickly wipe his eyes. The house was silent, except for the steady tick-tock of the clock on the wall. I drifted back to my bedside and looked down at myself. My face was still round with baby fat, but my frame had become so thin and frail that my chin was a sharp point. My hair had been trimmed recently, not quite long enough to meet Mom’s standards, not flowing and soft like Lily’s. I remembered the last haircut. The barber had accidentally snipped off a little too much, and Mom had screamed at him, accusing him of ruining Lily’s image. When we got home, she made me kneel for two hours, telling me I wasn’t worthy of having hair like my sister’s. Kneeling there on the cold floor, staring at Lily’s picture, I felt a strange sense of detachment. I didn’t even know who that girl was anymore.

3 Dad and Mom came back that afternoon. They were carrying a beautiful pink cradle, embroidered with little princesses. Mom couldn’t stop smiling. She placed it in the center of the living room. “Lily will adore this,” she said to Dad. “She always loved sleeping with her princess dolls.” Dad glanced toward my room. “Shouldn’t we… check on Noah?” he asked quietly. Mom’s face instantly hardened. “Check on him for what? He’ll come out when he’s hungry.” She sat beside the cradle, rocking it gently and humming a lullaby, her eyes filled with a tenderness so deep it seemed to overflow. I floated closer, looking at the pink cradle. It was small and delicate. Lily would have loved it. Mom had promised to buy it for her birthday, but Lily was gone before that day came. Now, the cradle was finally here. And its new owner was on her way back, in a different form. Mom suddenly looked up, as if sensing a presence, her eyes scanning the space where I was. I shot up to the ceiling. Her gaze swept over the empty living room, and she frowned for a moment before turning her attention back to the cradle. “Lily, Mommy is waiting for you,” she whispered. “I’ll never let you go again.” I watched the soft curve of her cheek, and I felt nothing. No anger, no sadness. Mom was finally getting her Lily back. And the replacement could finally disappear. That way, everyone could be happy.

4 On the third morning, a frantic knocking echoed through the apartment, loud enough to splinter the door. I floated into the hall as Mom opened it with an annoyed scowl. My homeroom teacher, Mrs. Davis, stood in the doorway. “Mrs. Williams,” she said, her expression grave, “Noah has been absent for three days. My calls have gone unanswered, so I came to check on him.” She tried to peer inside. “Is Noah home?” Mom’s face turned sour. She blocked the doorway. “He’s here. Just throwing a tantrum, refusing to go to school. Don’t you worry about him, I’ll handle it.” “This is about more than a tantrum,” Mrs. Davis insisted, her brow furrowed. “Last week, some of his classmates told me Noah was being bullied. They said the other children were pulling off his clothes and throwing cold water on him. I wanted to discuss it with you, but I couldn’t reach you.” Mom reacted like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. “Don’t you listen to those children’s lies! I’m sure it was Noah who started trouble! He’s been a malicious child from the start. He killed his own sister, and now he’s trying to play the victim at school!” Mrs. Davis’s face darkened. “Mrs. Williams, I saw the bruises on Noah myself. They were fresh. And from what I understand, Noah was only trying to protect another student. He is a sweet, quiet boy who works very hard. You can’t speak about him that way.” “Sweet?” Mom shrieked, her voice echoing down the hall. “If he was so sweet, why is my Lily dead? He’s a curse! I should never have let him live!” Mrs. Davis, taken aback by the outburst, took a deep breath. “If this is your attitude, I’ll have no choice but to contact Child Protective Services. Noah is a good child, and he doesn’t deserve this.” She turned and walked away. Mom continued to hurl insults after her until she disappeared down the stairs. Slamming the door shut, Mom trembled with rage. She marched to my room and kicked the door with all her might. “Noah! Look at the trouble you’ve caused! Now you’ve got teachers showing up at our door! Why don’t you just die!” I floated beside her, watching her face contort with fury. I suddenly remembered the river, when I was four. Lily and I were in the water. I had grabbed her hand, holding on for dear life, but the current was too strong. It tore us apart. When they pulled me out, the first thing I saw was Mom, clutching Lily’s lifeless body, her first words to me a broken scream: “Why wasn’t it you?” Dad came out of his study and put a hand on her arm. “That’s enough. The neighbors will hear.” His voice was low and strained. “He hasn’t eaten in three days. Let’s just go in and see him.” Mom shook him off. “See him for what? He’s not going to die!” But this time, Dad didn’t listen. He pushed the door open and went inside. Mom hesitated, then followed him in. Dad walked to the bed and pulled back the covers. Sunlight streamed in, illuminating my pale face, my purplish lips, and the dried stain of blood at the corner of my mouth…