I was severely allergic to shrimp. Even touching the broth could make it hard for me to breathe.

They used to treat me like a fragile little princess no one could touch.

So there was never seafood at home, and even relatives were reminded before each family gathering.

Then my little sister was born, and everything changed.

Shrimp became her favorite food. She kept asking Mom to make it for her.

That was the first time Mom snapped at me. "Can't you just stay away from it? Do you really have to make your sister unhappy?"

Dad only shut the kitchen door and handed me a mask.

But on the day of Dad's promotion dinner, I accidentally ate shrimp hidden inside a puff pastry.

My throat tightened. I clutched my neck and ran to Mom for help, my face turning purple.

But Mom flung my hand away, her voice cold as ice. "Today is an important day for your father. What stunt are you trying to pull now?

"Do you think everyone has to revolve around you? Go back to your room!"

She shoved me into my bedroom, slammed the door, and locked it.

I did not even have the strength to call for help.

All I could hear was the sound of people outside clinking glasses and offering congratulations, while my fingernails scraped bloody marks into the door.

Dad's promotion dinner filled our home with guests.

The burning in my throat grew stronger and stronger, as if countless needles were stabbing me from the inside.

I clutched my neck and stumbled toward Mom, forcing out a hoarse, broken sound. "Mom... help..."

Just now, Aunt Wendy had given me a pretty bunny-shaped puff pastry. I had eaten it without thinking.

But it was filled with shrimp.

Mom was holding a wineglass, smiling as she toasted Dad's supervisor.

When she saw me in pain, the smile on her face vanished. In its place was pure disgust.

She grabbed me and dragged me aside, lowering her voice as she snapped, "Annie Reed, what are you trying to do now?"

"Do you know what day this is? Whether your father can secure this promotion depends on tonight!"

I opened my mouth, but I could not say a single word. Breathing became harder and harder. The room began to spin.

I shook my head desperately, pointing at my throat as tears streamed down from my body's reflexive panic.

But Mom's eyes only grew colder. "This again? Every time something important happens at home, you have an episode. You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?"

"You just can't stand seeing your father succeed. You can't stand seeing this family do well."

Her words stabbed into my heart like knives, more painful than the suffocation in my throat.

She did not look at my face, already turning purple from lack of air. Instead, she shoved me toward my bedroom.

"Get inside! Stop embarrassing us!"

I staggered from the force of her push and slammed into the doorframe.

She forced me into the room, and I heard the clear click of the lock from outside.

"Stay in there and think about what you've done. You can come out when you understand."

With a bang, the door shut.

The world instantly went quiet. All that remained was my heavy, weakening breath.

I threw myself against the door, using every bit of strength I had to pound on it and scream, but even I could barely hear the sound I made.

Outside, the laughter, the clinking of glasses, and Director Harris's hearty voice all carried clearly through the door.

Each sound was like a slap across my face.

I slid to the floor. My body began to convulse. My nails clawed at the wooden door, leaving bloody streaks behind.

In the last blurry moment before my consciousness faded, I thought I heard my little sister, Lily, ask, "Mommy, where did Annie go?"

Mom's gentle voice came through the door. "Your sister doesn't feel well. She's resting. Lily, how about some cake?"

So in Mom's heart, my so-called "not feeling well" was just a way to get attention.

My life was not worth more than Dad's career.

It was not even worth more than keeping my sister happy.

The strength drained from my body little by little. I curled up on the cold floor like an abandoned puppy.

And finally, the world went completely dark.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw my small body lying on the cold floor.

My cheeks were blue and purple. My lips were black. My eyes were still open in terror, unwilling to close even in death.

So I was already dead.

I had become a wandering ghost floating in the air.

Outside the door, the dinner party finally ended. Dad supported his drunken supervisor while Mom followed behind, bowing and smiling.

"Director Harris, take care. Please come over for dinner again sometime!"

After seeing everyone off, Mom let out a long breath, unable to hide the satisfaction on her face.

Dad was glowing too, clearly pleased with the night's networking.

When he returned to the living room and saw the broken vase pieces I had knocked over while struggling, he frowned. "What happened here?"

Mom cleaned up the mess and said irritably, "Who else? Your precious daughter."

"She saw how many guests we had tonight and pretended to be sick for attention, so I locked her in."

Dad loosened his tie and collapsed onto the couch. "That child is getting more and more unreasonable."

I wanted to rush over and scream at them. "I wasn't pretending! I was really dying! Please go check on me!"

But my hand passed through Dad's body. They could not hear my voice at all.

Lily ran over with a piece of unfinished tiramisu in her hand.

She went to my bedroom door and knocked gently. "Annie, are you asleep?"

There was no response from inside.

Lily looked up and asked innocently, "Mommy, why isn't Annie answering me?"

I floated over and hugged her lightly. "Lily, be good. I'm not ignoring you."

Mom walked over with a cold face. "Leave her alone. She's throwing a tantrum. Let her go hungry for a meal and she'll behave."

Dad yawned. "I'm going to shower. You should rest too. Don't get angry over that child."

Lily looked at my door eagerly and whispered, "But I want to play with Annie..."

Mom picked her up and fed her a bite of dessert. "Isn't it nice to play with Mommy? Your sister is being bad. We won't pay attention to her."

She dumped Lily's leftover dessert, along with the expensive dishes from dinner, into the trash.

I looked at the bunny-shaped puff pastries mixed with shrimp in the garbage, and my stomach churned.

That was what had killed me.

Mom carried Lily back to her room, leaving only me, a lonely ghost, in the living room.

I floated to my bedroom door and looked at the desperate bloody marks I had left on the wood.

So even after I died, they still did not care.

I was only an unreasonable child, a child who threw tantrums and needed to be "taught a lesson."

Late at night, Mom finished bathing Lily and coaxed her to sleep.

Then she walked to my bedroom door and stood there for a long time.

I thought her conscience had finally awakened. I thought she was finally going to open the door and check on me.

My heart rose into my throat.

She lifted her hand, but only knocked lightly on the door.

"Annie, are you asleep?"

I floated in front of her and looked at the impatience and exhaustion on her face.

"Mommy was a little harsh today, but it was for your own good.

"Do you know how important your father's promotion is to this family? Why can't you understand that?"

She paused, as if waiting for my answer.

But I would never be able to answer her again.

When there was no movement inside, she sighed, as if she had completed some obligation.

"All right. Stop acting like a child. I left milk by the door. Remember to drink it.

"Think things through by tomorrow, then come out and apologize to Mommy."

After that, she turned and went back to her room without the slightest hesitation.

She never touched the doorknob once.

I looked at the still-warm glass of milk by the door and laughed.

I was already dead. What use did I have for milk?

Your apology came too late.

I followed her into the master bedroom.

Dad was already lying down. When he heard her come in, he rolled over. "How is that girl?"

Mom took off her jacket, her voice full of exhaustion. "No movement. She probably fell asleep. Kids these days have such fragile pride."

Dad sighed. "Don't push her too hard. With that body of hers, she hasn't had a comfortable day since she was little."

"Seeing Lily run and jump like that must make her feel bad too."

Mom sat at the vanity and removed her makeup, her movements irritated. "I'm pushing her? She's the one pushing me!"

"Isn't it always like this? The moment we give Lily a little more attention, Annie suddenly 'doesn't feel well.'"

"Sometimes I really wonder if she does it on purpose."

Dad fell silent. After a while, he said, "Stop overthinking it. I'll talk to her tomorrow."

"If it still doesn't work, we'll take her to a therapist."

I floated between them and listened to their conversation, my heart sliced open.

In their eyes, even my illness was a calculated performance.

They did not know how many times I had struggled to breathe in the middle of the night, biting down on my blanket and enduring it alone so I would not wake them.

I did not dare cry. I did not dare call out.

I was afraid of disturbing them.

I was afraid of seeing them worry about me.

But all my obedience had earned me was the label of a scheming child.

I'm sorry, Dad. I'm sorry, Mom.

I was too useless. Even being sick annoyed you.

If I had never been born, you could have lived much more easily with my healthy little sister.

I lay between them, just like when I was little, with Mom on my left and Dad on my right.

But I could no longer feel their warmth.

The next morning, bright sunlight slipped through the gap in the curtains.

Mom got up to make breakfast. When she passed my bedroom door, she saw the glass of milk still untouched on the floor.

The milk had gone cold. A thin skin had formed on top.

The softness on her face instantly faded, replaced by cold anger.

She picked up the milk and walked to my door, knocking hard.

"Annie Reed! Come out here!"

The room was deathly silent.

Mom's eyes began to redden, and her voice carried a sob. "What exactly do you want? Mommy already apologized yesterday!

"You won't eat or drink. Are you trying to protest by starving yourself?

"Who are you mad at? Will you only be satisfied if you drive me to death?"

Still, there was no response.

Her anger slowly turned into panic. Her hand trembled as she gripped the doorknob.

At that moment, Dad came out of the bedroom yawning. "Why are you making so much noise this early?"

Mom turned back as if grabbing a lifeline, pointing at my door with a trembling voice. "Honey, Annie... Annie won't open the door!"

Dad frowned. "What tantrum is she throwing now? I'll get the spare key."

Lily also came out, rubbing her eyes, and asked in her soft little voice, "Mommy, is Annie still mad?"

I was so anxious that I spun around in front of them, waving desperately. "Don't open it! Please, don't open it!"

But they could not see me. They could not hear me.

Dad quickly brought the key and handed it to Mom.

Mom took a deep breath, as if going into battle, and inserted the key into the lock.

"I'd like to see what tricks you're playing in there!"

The sound of the key turning was painfully sharp in the quiet hallway.

With a click, the lock opened.

Mom pushed the door open.

Inside the room, the curtains were drawn, leaving everything dim.

The next second, her gaze fell to the floor.

My small body was curled up there, motionless, my face a terrifying blue-purple color.

My eyes, once always smiling, were now empty and open, frozen with the fear and despair of my final moments.

The anger and impatience on Mom's face froze instantly, turning into pure horror.

The key slipped from her hand and hit the floor with a crisp clang.

She staggered back, her mouth wide open, but no sound came out.

Dad sensed something was wrong and leaned past her.

When he saw what was inside the room, every bit of color drained from his face.

A strange, choked sound came from his throat, like someone had wrapped hands around his neck.

"An... Annie..."

Lily squeezed in curiously from beside Dad's leg.

"Is Annie sleeping? Why is she lying on the floor?"

That innocent question became the final straw.

Mom finally let out a scream so shrill it no longer sounded human.

"Ah!"