I die in the basement after being burned by acid. My family doesn't recognize me, and they don't call the cops.

My mother picks up the scalpel that hasn't been used in years and debones me. My father excitedly mixes my skeleton with concrete and turns me into an exquisite statue. My sister uses the sculpture she's made out of my flesh and portrays herself as a genius sculptor whom everyone admires.

Later, the sculpture is shattered, revealing half a broken finger inside. That's when everyone panics.

It was late at night. My mother, Brenda Fuller, gripped a scalpel and sliced through my skin and flesh skillfully in the basement.

Perhaps it was because she had not used a scalpel for a long time, but her hands shook a little.

Each layer of skin or flesh was cleanly separated before being discarded into a garbage bag at the side.

My older sister, Layla Larson, sat hunched over in a corner of the room. Her eyes rounded with horror. "Mom, let's just call the police. I'm scared."

As I levitated in the air, I cast her a sideways glance.

A few days ago, I received a message from Brenda telling me to meet her in the basement.

As soon as I entered the basement, I felt something hard hit me at the back of my head. The pain overwhelmed me, and I lost consciousness.

When I opened my eyes again, what I saw was my bloodied and mutilated body. My face and body were doused with strong acid and disfigured to the point of being unrecognizable.

Layla shuddered involuntarily. She dared not even open her eyes.

Brenda did not even look in her way. "Why should we call the police? This person trespassed into our house. We never intended to kill her. Instead of reporting it to the police, this person can still serve one last purpose.

"Aren't you going to participate in a sculpture competition soon?"

Before she could finish, my father, Philip Larson, cut her off. He slapped his forehead. "That's right. Why haven't I thought about that?

"Layla, your sculpting skills are average. However, it'll make a lot of difference if you use a real human skeleton as the framework for your next piece."

My jaw dropped when I heard those words. These people planned on using my skeleton as the framework for Layla's sculpture.

I crouched down and flapped my arms around furiously, trying to yell at them and stop them.

Sadly, the scalpel went through my palm and carved away at my body over and over again.

I could only watch as Brenda eventually removed everything, leaving only my skeleton intact. Traces of blood and flesh were stuck to her body.

I had no idea she was so skilled at using the scalpel.

I once slipped and fell from a tree when I was still a young, mischievous child. Brenda instinctively reached out to catch me. However, she happened to have injured her right arm during the process and had been unable to perform surgeries since then.

Even though she had honed her surgical skills to perfection, Brenda could only spend her days working in a pharmacy after the incident.

It was no surprise that she resented me all these years.

At dawn, she drove Layla and dumped the cut-up pieces of my body into the sea. The crashing waves engulfed the blood-red liquid even before it could spread across the surface of the water.

On the way back, Brenda seemed quite distracted. She ran through several red lights.

She received several messages on her phone, which was left in the storage compartment of the car's center console, just then. Brenda took a glance at the screen and tossed her phone aside.

Sitting in the front passenger's seat, I could see on the screen the chat window with my name on it. There were two messages displayed on the screen.

"Mom, I already went back to school since I had something to do.

"I probably won't be able to drop by home since I'll be busy for quite some time."

I wondered who it was that had used my phone to send these messages after I died.

I tried my best to recall what happened after I entered the basement. However, I could not remember anything else other than the sound of something heavy dropping onto the floor.

The lights in the basement were kept on for the next few days.

Layla was focused on carving a plaster head using a carving knife. She traced the eye on the head carefully with the sharp tip of the knife.

The facial features on the plaster head felt so familiar that it made Layla pause. Her hands trembled slightly.

Philip walked over to her and gave her a nod of approval.

He pointed to the sculpture of a human figure standing in a corner of the room and waved at Layla. "I've spent a whole week working on this. Doesn't it look quite amazing?"

Philip was a fairly well-known sculptor, and his skills were pretty solid.

The sculpture before them was as tall as a person. It looked aesthetically pleasing with its fine, delicate lines. However, the sculpture was missing a head.

Layla stood on her toes and gently placed the plaster head over the sculpture's neck. Then, she dusted off her hands and took a few steps back.

Philip patted her shoulder. "Layla, you'll definitely impress everyone when you have this sculpture submitted for the competition."

There was a flash of uneasiness in Layla's eyes as she stood beside Philip.

Meanwhile, I leaned against the sculpture. Something cold dripped onto the sculpture's neck, yet it did not leave a mark on it.

The moon waned and became full again.

Brenda finally thought of me. She took her phone out to check. Her mouth twisted into a smirk. "She's not coming home even when it's a holiday. What on earth is she up to these days?"

Layla lay sprawled across the couch. She was on cloud nine. Recently, her piece made it through the preliminary rounds and entered the final round of the competition.

Photos of the sculpture had gone viral on the internet. Many experts were impressed by her work. People started referring to Layla with the title of a sculpting prodigy.

The glory she earned was built upon my remains. Yet, I had to sit in a corner and listen to her slandering my name endlessly.

Layla pretended to look at her phone. "Hazel told me she won't be back for the holidays. Maybe she's celebrating with her boyfriend?"

That was complete nonsense. I never had a boyfriend.

I furrowed my brows as I could not understand why she would lie like that.

Brenda's eyes hardened after she heard Layla's words. "I knew it. She must be hiding something for her to not come home all this time.

"She started dating as soon as she went to college. If she needed a man so badly, she should have chosen to work at bars or clubs. She could have scored herself a rich man and brought home some money.

"What's the use of her dating the young boys in her college? She'll only be sleeping with them for free.

"If it weren't because I tried to save that useless child back then, someone like me, who had a medical degree, would not have ended up working as a pharmacist now. Not only is the pay low, but I also have to suck up to others."

I could not understand how someone like Brenda, who had received that level of education, could always curse at me like a shrew about a series of different things each time.

In truth, it was Layla who had tricked me back then by saying that her doll got stuck on a tree branch. I had climbed the tree to help her retrieve the doll.

Yet, when I told Brenda what happened, she shot me a baleful glare and slapped me. "You brat! You're putting the blame on your sister when you're the one who's at fault!

"Layla is a good child. Why would she ask you to climb a tree? You're spouting blatant lies now!"

She slowly moved her right wrist in circles. Her eyes were red. "If I had known you'd only bring me trouble, I would have just sat on you after you had fallen off the tree."

I silently wiped a tear off the corner of my eye as those memories came back to me. Even though I was already dead, the thought of what happened then still made me feel sad.

Layla curled her lips in delight. She got up from the couch and assumed a docile demeanor. She put her arms around Brenda's shoulders.

"Don't be angry, Mom. It's not worth it for you to get mad at someone like that. You have me, right?"

This was what she always did. Layla could switch between her two different selves effortlessly.

Brenda's expression gradually softened. She stroked Layla's hair gently. "My Layla is the best. Well, Hazel can do whatever she wants. She's only going to get knocked up eventually if she carries on like this. We'll see what she'll do about it when that happens."

I closed my eyes for a moment. That was my biological mother. Yet, she would not hesitate to say the most hurtful words to me.

Both Layla and I were our parents' daughters. I just could not understand why they only ever seemed to care about her.

Feeling indignant, I squeezed myself in between the two of them. I carefully wrapped my arms around Brenda's waist. It was something that I had wanted to do for years but dared not do.

However, I could not sense any warmth from her even though I had stuck my body close to hers.

After that brief moment they had thought about me during the holidays, the Larsons once again forgot all about me.

That was until Philip came home one day looking completely thrilled. With an invitation card in his hand, Philip almost tripped and fell as he entered through the door.

From what I could recall, the only other time he acted like this was when I was still in primary school. I had won first place in an art competition held at the district level at that time, and Philip was invited to give a speech on stage as a parent representative of the student who won.

Although Brenda treated me harshly, Philip would still look out for me at the time.

Philip placed the invitation card on the table and announced excitedly, "Layla, the results from the final assessment are out. You won first place! The organizers have invited us to an event happening this week to receive your prize."

Layla spun around several times as she was overjoyed. Brenda gave her a tight embrace. "My baby is so amazing! I'm so proud of you."

Then, she pecked Layla on the forehead.

The sculpture, which had my bones and flesh incorporated in it, stood by itself in a corner of the room.

At that very moment, I felt an awful sensation as though all of my insides were turning. I could not even stay on my feet. Perhaps my remains inside the sculpture were crying out to me, begging me to help set them free.

I slowly hovered toward the sculpture and caressed its hand. A deep sense of grief and despair washed over me.

Philip seemed to have sensed something and turned his eyes toward us just then.

Philip sighed. "If it were Hazel, she would have been able to create something even more impressive."

Brenda's and Layla's expressions hardened.

Tears brimmed Layla's eyes as she burrowed her face into Brenda's chest. "I know I'm not as good as Hazel, but I've done my best."

Brenda wiped Layla's tears off and glared at Philip. "Why did you have to mention that wench? So, what if she's talented? She's just a useless wench now.

"She was such a glutton that she tried to snatch food away from the dogs. She got what she deserved when the dogs bit off her fingers."

I put my head between my hands and squatted down. The stumps of my fingers hurt terribly.

Back then, Brenda neglected me and often left me to starve.

There was one time when Layla had secretly given me a piece of meat. I was starving, so I hid somewhere downstairs to eat it. Somehow, several dogs appeared out of nowhere and pounced at me suddenly.

I held onto the meat with all my might. Yet, I ended up having three fingers bitten off by the dogs. I almost lost all function in my left hand too.

I was squirming on the floor in pain by the time Brenda and Layla hurried over.

Layla clung to Brenda and sobbed loudly, "Mommy, I told Hazel not to take the food away from the dogs. Still, she wouldn't listen to me."

Brenda's anger flared up when she heard those words. She kicked me several times forcefully.

"You useless thing! Did we not give you food to eat or clothes to wear? You went and stole food from the dogs? You should have just acted like them and eaten excrement too! I wouldn't be surprised if the dogs had bitten you to death!"

When Philip saw my torn-off fingers, he said nothing and just walked away.

With her medical background and knowledge, Brenda was worried that I might catch rabies and make things difficult for them. She sent me to the hospital while yelling at me all the way.

In the end, I lost three fingers in my right hand and nearly half of the function in my left hand. Since then, I could no longer use a carving knife.

After that, Philip shifted all of his attention to teaching Layla even though she had no talent for sculpting. The two of them managed to prove that even someone with zero talent could become a sculptor after receiving a professional sculptor's guidance.

On the day of the awards ceremony, Philip and Brenda were dressed in their best clothes as they attended the event.

Layla wore a designer dress that had a long, pink train adorned with fine diamonds attached to it.

The sculpture was carefully packed and transported to the venue at a much earlier time.

Layla held the trophy and stood beside the sculpture while she gave a speech onstage. Brenda was so happy that she cried tears of joy. Meanwhile, Philip stood with his back straight and accepted everyone's praise.

During the celebration party, Layla, being the social butterfly she was, took Brenda along and spoke with almost everyone they met.

I stared at them with a stony gaze. Something bitter seemed to burn inside me.

I wondered if there was some way I could make others notice the sculpture's secret. I went behind the sculpture and tried pushing, kicking, and ramming into the sculpture.

Eventually, I slumped onto the floor since I was completely spent. Despair washed over me in waves.

"Don't you guys think this sculpture looks a little familiar?"

I directed my gaze toward the voice. It was Colin Strauss, my college director's son. He was a young man who was deemed to have a promising future. We did not know each other that well.

He came closer and looked into the sculpture's eyes. Suddenly, he raised his hand and lightly caressed the corner of the sculpture's eye. He muttered, "Why do they look so alike?"

I gazed at him. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. I wondered if he had recognized me.

"Colin…"

Layla came up to him. She smiled sweetly. "You came?"

She squeezed Brenda's fingers lightly. It was obvious that she was delighted to see him.

Colin gave her a slight nod and turned around. He had only taken a few steps away when he glanced over his shoulder again. "Is your sister the model for this sculpture?"

Layla froze and fell silent.

"Why is she not here today?"

After Brenda gave her a soft nudge, Layla came to her senses and forced a smile. "She's always with her boyfriend these days. She's hardly home."

"That's right. My youngest is quite wild. She's always out there mingling with men. I don't even know how many boyfriends she's had so far," Brenda added.

Colin said nothing and was about to walk away.

Layla instinctively grabbed hold of his wrist. As she did that, the sculpture's finger somehow got caught in the train of her dress. When she moved, a fragment of plaster snapped and fell onto the floor, revealing part of a human bone.

I subconsciously held my breath as I stared hard at Colin. I prayed that he would just take another glance over his shoulder.

Layla was shocked and flustered. She gripped Colin's wrist with both hands and stood rooted to the spot.

Colin, who was pulled backward by Layla, looked down reflexively…