On my fifth birthday, my parents showed up at my birthday party later than usual. They brought with them a skinny little girl who couldn't seem to speak at all.

I rushed over, hoping to hug Mom, only to get knocked down by her. That was how I fell into the ten-foot cake that my parents had specifically picked out for me. Buttercream filled my nose and mouth, suffocating me to no end.

When I managed to climb out of the mess, I burst out in tears and asked Dad to cuddle me. But Dad retracted his hands while looking conflicted.

"Don't blame your mom, Willow. From now on, you must take good care of Maple, your little sister. As long as Maple is happy, your mom will be happy."

Later on, the mean kids in the neighborhood shove Maple Thompson, my new little sister, into a pile of sand. I rush over to protect her immediately.

Once we get home, I mimic my parents by drawing a bath so that I can clean Maple up.

That's when Mom suddenly barge into the bathroom and slap me heavily across the face.

"You've already enjoyed our love for the past five years! Why are you still greedy for more? I can't believe you're trying to drown Maple right now!"

Mom's eyes have gone bloodshot. She drags me by the hair and stuffs me into the washing machine.

"Only a washing machine is capable of cleanse that filth out of your soul! You can only scramble out of the washing machine and apologize to Maple once you've decided to quit bullying your sister!"

In the living room, Dad lowers his voice. "Keep your voice down when you're chewing Willow out. Maple is about to fall asleep. Don't go around waking her up now."

Mom doesn't want to look at me anymore. Instead, she slams the lid onto the washing machine forcefully. I can't get out of the machine.

What she doesn't know is that the washing machine will activate.

"The 212-degree-Fahrenheit wash cycle has been activated."

Scalding hot water is soon dumped onto my body. It hurts so much that I gradually lose my consciousness.

Will Mom love me again once I'm squeaky clean after the wash cycle?

Mom always said that to ensure every piece of clothing I wore was completely sterile, the washing machine at home had only one setting—212-degree-Fahrenheit high-temperature wash.

The moment the scalding water from the inlet hit my skin, blisters erupted all over. Even the slightest touch sent a surge of pain through me, so intense it made me want to curl up and roll on the floor.

During the brief pause between water cycles, I hammered desperately on the washing machine lid. "Mom, help! I'm in here! I'm in so much pain!"

My feet, submerged in the piping water, had long scalded a layer of skin away.

Mom's low, furious growls echoed from the living room. "Stop making noise! Gosh, you're loud! I swear I'll deal with you if you wake Maple up from her nap!"

My pleas for help became stuck in my throat. Suddenly, I recalled the time I accidentally fell down the stairs while trying to deliver Mom's phone to her, which she had carelessly left at home.

At that time, she scolded, "You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? I was just about to take Maple out to the playground, and you're here, pretending to fall and garner pity? You'd love it if someone came over and lectured me about being partial, right?"

She towered over me, eyes cold. "If you pull another trick like this, I'll send you straight to Grandma and Grandpa, and you'll never return."

My jolting body brought me back to reality. I didn't want to leave Mom and Dad.

The hot water began pouring in again. I curled into a ball, desperately covering my mouth despite wanting to shout at the top of my lungs for help. Instead, I ended up chewing up my palm and not daring to make a sound.

My scalded hair now swam across the washing machine. Sorry, Mom. I dirtied your washing machine.

My consciousness began to blur, yet in that moment, I still couldn't understand why Mom repeatedly got upset with me, even though I had tried my very best.

Ever since my sister, Maple Thompson, reunited with us, I had given her all my favorite toys. I used to be possessive of them, but considering she couldn't speak, I found her rather pitiful and felt a need to take care of her.

Besides, Dad had said that as long as I treated her well, Mom would be happy. But… why wouldn't she hug me or smile at me anymore? Every time I went up to her, she would always push me aside with a gloomy face.

Had I not done enough?

The main door opened. Dad had returned. I rushed over excitedly, intending to hug him as I always did, but this time, I went past his body and hit the wall behind him.

I froze. I looked down and realized my body had turned… transparent. Was I dead?

"Is Willow napping in her room?" Dad asked. "Why didn't she welcome me home today?"

He didn't notice I was inside the washing machine. By then, it had long stopped running because my crushed legs had been caught in the drainage outlet, twisted in the mechanism.

Mom tiptoed out of Maple's room, her brows tightly furrowed.

"Keep your voice down," she said softly. "Maple's sleeping. And I don't know what that damn brat is up to. I only punished her a little today, and she refused to come out for lunch. Seems like I've been too lenient with her all along."

Dad gently patted her back, trying to calm her down, though his expression showed disagreement.

"Honestly, I think you've been projecting too much onto Willow. Didn't we already get to the bottom of things? Maple did get lost on her own back then. It had nothing to do with Willow."

Mom fell silent briefly, then pushed his hand away. "I know that. But every time I think about how much suffering Maple went through out there, while Willow was living comfortably and well-fed at home, I just feel like I'd wronged her."

Dad let out a long sigh. I froze in place, my hands and feet turning icy cold. Did Maple's disappearance have something to do with me?

No wonder after she came back, Mom never held me again or said I was her precious baby anymore. Once, when she accidentally smiled at me, she immediately shoved me to the ground.

"Monster," she seethed. "Who told you to come over? Get back to your room!"

I used to think that if I treated Maple well, Mom would eventually go back to how she was before and like me again. Now, I realized that no matter what I did, Mom had already stopped loving me a long time ago.

"Alright," Dad said, his voice softening. "I'll make Willow apologize to you for what she did wrong. Let's eat first. If we starve her, you'll only end up feeling bad about it again."

Mom looked away, but still reached for four sets of plates and cutlery, and even the little cat-shaped spoon I had always wanted. My heart softened a little.

That was just how she was. She could sound harsh, but she meant well.

Dad opened my room door. It was empty. "Hey, Willow isn't in her room. Did she hide somewhere because she's upset?"

He immediately turned and headed toward the laundry room.

"She's gone too far this time. Don't go looking for her!" Mom spat out, fury blazing in her eyes. "Let's see how long she can hide. She barely gets scolded and already throws a tantrum like this."

She slammed the cutlery down onto the table. "She must've gone out to find her friends. Can you imagine? A girl her age, running off to play as if nothing had happened, just after hurting her sister. She's just wicked."

The little cat-shaped spoon snapped when it hit the table.

I lowered my eyes, my transparent hands clenched so tightly they nearly twisted into knots. Mom still hadn't realized that I had long stopped having any friends.

Kids were always realistic like that. They knew exactly whose side adults were on and who had no one backing them up.

Ever since what happened at the birthday party, they had started picking on me, tripping me with their feet, and pushing me down the stairs. When the teacher reprimanded them, they would all put on innocent faces.

But I endured all of that because I didn't want to cause trouble for Mom. However, when I found out they were also bullying Maple, I grabbed them by the hair and fought them hard.

From that day on, the bullying I received doubled. Still, I wasn't afraid. As long as Maple was safe, it didn't matter how badly I got beaten.

To keep Dad from looking for me, Mom took more than a dozen sets of new clothes from a shopping bag. "Hey, Hector, take a look at these. What do you think of them?"

"Did you buy these for the girls? Let Willow try them when she comes home," Dad said with a smile.

I leaned in, too. They were really pretty. Every single piece looked like something I would wear.

Mom's smile faded. She snatched the clothes back from Dad. "These are all for Maple. Willow already has enough clothes. She doesn't deserve to wear anything this nice."

A wave of humiliation suddenly washed over the faint trace of joy I had just felt. I drifted instinctively into the corner, as if I could hide myself there.

What was I even thinking? Maple was so pitiful. Of course, Mom was right to buy things for her. Besides, I was already… dead. Otherwise, it would've been wasted. Mom was really smart like that.

I grinned to myself, but my throat tightened for no reason.

"These clothes still need to be washed first," Mom said. "They can't be given to Maple directly. She might get an allergic reaction. Oh, I can't wait! She'll look like the prettiest little princess in them!"

She folded the clothes in her arms and walked toward the laundry room.

Oh, no. My chest tightened.

I quickly drifted into the washing machine and looked at my curled-up body inside. What could I do? I looked hideous! I would definitely scare Mom—what if she had nightmares because of me?

Back when I was alive, I used to stick around Mom. Now that I was dead, would Maple still get up in the middle of the night to bring her a cup of warm honey water as I did?

Mom's footsteps slowly inched closer…

The moment the door handle turned, I stopped breathing. It felt like even my heart had gone still.

"Hey, why are there wounds on your arm, Maple?" Dad exclaimed in shock.

Footsteps immediately changed direction. Mom shrieked, "It must be Willow. It has to be her! She just can't stand that we treat Maple well, so she's been secretly hurting her!"

No, it wasn't me. It was Billy the Bully!

I circled anxiously around Mom, trying to make her understand. Maple could neither speak nor write. She just cried, shaking her head repeatedly.

Mom held her tight, tears pouring down her face. "This is all my fault. I shouldn't have tried to bring you and your sister closer. I gave that monster the chance to hurt you!

"Don't worry, I'll protect you from now on. I won't ever let her hurt you again!"

I stood there, staring at Mom. Then, I lowered my head and looked at the cuts scattered across my arms and legs. They were older, more numerous, and far worse than Maple's.

It had been a long time since Mom bathed or slept beside me, so she never noticed.

"Willow used to be such a good girl. She wouldn't do something like this," Dad argued, brows furrowed. "Let's not jump to conclusions yet. What if we've misunderstood her? I think we should find her first and ask what really happened."

"Well, I'll definitely apologize to her if I did misunderstand her," Mom said.

My eyes lit up. I knew it! I knew Mom would believe me!

A mocking smile tugged at her lips. "But that'll never happen. Ever since Maple came back, I've treated them fairly. But Willow is always trying to act pitiful and get my attention.

"Now that she's not the only one being doted on, she's taking it out on her sister. She's too young to be this calculating, Hector."

"What are you talking about? Willow's only five. What can she possibly know about being calculating?" Dad snapped, eyes worried as he glanced toward my room. "And she's been gone all day. Aren't you worried at all?"

"Worried for what? The fact that she's ruthless enough to hurt her sister makes me wish that something would just happen to her outside," Mom seethed. "I mean, even if she does come back, I'll still beat her to death."

"You… You're impossible to reason with! I'm going to find her."

Dad turned and strode out. I rushed forward, reaching for the corner of his shirt. "I'm right here, Dad. I'm not outside. And please don't argue with Mom because of me. It's not worth it!"

The moment the sunlight touched me, it burned. I flinched and pulled back.

In Maple's room, Mom held her and cried. "This is all my fault. I failed to protect you. From now on, I promise I'll deal with your sister if she even attempts to hurt you again!"

It felt like something dull was scraping against my chest. A sour ache spread through me. I shook my head hard. No, I shouldn't be affected by this. Mom was just speaking out of anger.

I used to be such a naughty kid. After Maple went missing, Mom was so afraid of losing me, too, that she spoiled me endlessly. This year, I even broke Great-Grandma's heirloom by accident, and Mom still couldn't bring herself to scold me.

Then, I looked at myself in the mirror, at the body that had already turned transparent.

Mom was right. Maple had suffered so much, and it was only right that Mom cared about her more. Even though I was only five, I was still stronger than Maple. I was a grown ghost who could take care of myself.

Mom wiped the tears off her face, then picked up the new clothes and headed for the laundry room.

Wait, no. Dad wasn't here. If Mom witnessed the scene alone, she would be petrified.

I pressed myself hard against the laundry room door, trying to block her from coming in, but she pushed it open so easily, walking straight through me.

I stumbled forward and fell against the washing machine. Was there nothing I could do to make her leave? I didn't want her to see the state I was in…

Suddenly, someone knocked on the door.

Mom set the clothes aside and walked toward the front door. As she went, she opened an app on her phone and started the washing machine remotely for pre-washing.