The Suffocating Heat

My dad built a wooden swing in the sunroom, just to see me smile.
But I was afraid of heights, too scared to really use it.
When my little brother, Leo, was born, he became the prince of the family.
One day, he was swinging too high and went flying off. I lunged to catch him, and we both crashed to the ground.
I gritted my teeth against the pain, trying to pull Leo up. But when Dad came running, all he saw was my brother on the floor.
His face was a mask of fury. He grabbed a metal drying rack and lashed at my legs.
You vicious little brat! Did you want to cripple your brother?
He scooped Leo into his arms but locked me, my leg now broken, in the scorching sunroom.
Stay in here and think about that black heart of yours!
They rushed Leo to the hospital, and no one looked back at me as I collapsed from dehydration under the brutal sun.
As my throat burned with thirst, I could only wonder: when they came back, would they still love me?
1.
The sun was a searing hammer, beating down on the glass of the sunroom.
The heat found its way into every crack, every pore.
Id always been frail. The doctor said I needed more sun to build up my calcium. So Dad built this sunroom for me.
But now, this room, once a symbol of my fathers love, had become my torture chamber.
My skin reddened, then stung, a pins-and-needles fire spreading across my body. Soon, transparent blisters began to bubble up, a dense, horrifying constellation that made my scalp crawl. The agony of my shattered leg was buried under the burning, only to scream back to life with a fresh wave of blinding pain every time I tried to move.
My throat felt like it was packed with hot coals. I licked my cracked lips and tasted blood.
My vision started to blur. The familiar tightness of an allergic reaction, of anaphylaxis, was closing around my neck. The temperature in the sunroom kept climbing, the UV rays a million invisible knives slicing into my exposed skin.
I curled up in the small shadow cast by the swing, but even that sliver of mercy betrayed me as the sun arced across the sky.
In my final moments, I was still thinking of my dad.
He would come back.
He would hold me, just like when I was little, and call me his sweet girl. He would tell me a story to help me fall asleep.
He would definitely come back.
Clinging to that last, desperate hope for a fathers love, I took my final breath.
I felt my body grow light. So light that it began to float, rising through the glass roof until I was hovering in the air.
I looked down. On the floor of the sunroom lay a twisted, broken thing.
That was me.
My once-pale skin was covered in hideous blisters and red patches. Some had burst, leaking a yellow fluid. The broken leg was bent at a grotesque angle, swollen like proofing dough. My face was a frozen mask of pain, my mouth wide open as if in a silent, unending scream.
So ugly.
No wonder Dad didnt love me anymore.
I just watched, suspended in the air. There was no pain, no sadness. Just a strange, hollow peace.
So this is what death is like.
The sun sank below the horizon, the sky shifting from orange to a deep, bruised purple. The world fell silent. And I just hung there, watching as my body slowly stiffened in the cooling air.
At eight oclock, the familiar sound of a car engine pulled into the driveway.
They were back.
Dad opened his door, and Mom got out, carrying Leo. He was bouncing with energy, clutching a Captain Comet action figure, looking completely fine.
Thank goodness Leo was quick on his feet today, Mom said, her voice a mixture of relief and lingering fear. Who knows how badly he could have been hurt if his sister had managed to push him off.
Dad was carrying a chilled watermelon in one arm and a large bag of snacks in the otherall of Leos favorites. The three of them looked like the perfect, happy family.
I watched them walk right past the sunroom.
For a moment, Dad paused. He glanced at the closed glass door, the curtains drawn just as they had left them. Silence radiated from within.
Stubborn little thing, isnt she? Not making a peep.
Dad snorted, then yelled at the door, Lily! Are you playing dead in there?
At that exact moment, my corpse, already stiff with rigor mortis, suddenly spasmed. A muscle contraction caused my limbs to straighten out, and my body slammed heavily against the floor.
THUMP!
A dull, solid sound.
Dads face instantly turned a shade of deep crimson. He thought I was stomping in defiance, talking back without words.
Hey! You still have the nerve to give me attitude? Youre getting bold, arent you!
Have I been too soft on you? Is that it?
He pointed a shaking finger at the door. Fine! You can stay in there! Lets see who gives in first! Im going to beat this rotten attitude out of you if its the last thing I do!
With that, he grabbed Mom and Leo and stormed into the house without a backward glance.
A little while later, the smell of dinner began to drift through the air.
I floated into the dining room. Four dishes and a soup were laid out on the table. In the center was a platter of my favorite pot roast, glistening with gravy, its rich aroma filling the room.
My mother picked up the largest piece and placed it in Leos bowl. Eat up, sweetie. You must have been so scared today.
Leo let out a happy cry and dug in.
Mom picked up another piece. Her hand paused mid-air, her gaze drifting toward the sunroom.
Dont you worry about that little viper, Dad said, his voice loud, almost shouting. A couple of missed meals and shell learn her lesson. No gratitude at all, after weve raised her all these years!
He shoveled a mouthful of rice, chewing loudly. Shes just jealous of the attention we give Leo! Did you see how she went after him today? She was trying to kill him! If we dont teach her a hard lesson now, shell be completely out of control!
My mothers hand faltered, and she slowly lowered the piece of meat back into her own bowl. She didnt say a word.
I knew what her silence meant. She agreed with him. In her heart, I was just as monstrous as he said.
But I wasnt.
That wasnt what happened.
No one else mentioned my name for the rest of the meal. I could only watch as the entire platter of my favorite food disappeared into my brothers stomach.
After dinner, Mom cleared the table with her usual efficiency. She walked to the sunroom door and hesitated for a long time, her hand hovering over the glass. A flicker of softness.
Lily? Stop being stubborn. Come out and apologize to your brother, then say youre sorry to your dad. We can put this behind us. Just dont do it again.
Your father is only doing this for your own good. What you did today was just too much.
If Leo hadnt been so clever, he could have been seriously hurt.
Lily? Are you listening to me?
Of course, there was no response. My body was lying cold and still on the floor.
Dad sauntered over, a toothpick dangling from his lips. Seeing my continued silence, he yanked Mom away from the door.
Look at her! Is she even listening to you? Im telling you, youve spoiled her rotten. Shes never known a day of hardship in her life, and now shes a stubborn brat who thinks she can defy us!
She tried to hurt her brother today! Whats she going to do tomorrow? If we dont get her under control now, shes going to end up in jail!
He pointed at the door and delivered his final verdict.
Shes sleeping in there tonight! Let her reflect! She can come out when shes ready to admit she was wrong. Not a second sooner!
But theres not even a bed in there! You want her to sleep on the floor?
Whats wrong with the floor? Kids sleep on the floor all the time! Is one night going to kill her?
Mom opened her mouth, as if to argue, but then closed it. She nodded, accepting his logic.
Well, Lily, you think long and hard about what youve done, she said finally, her voice laced with disappointment. Then she turned and walked away with Dad.
The hallway light clicked off, plunging my little glass prison, and the world around it, into total darkness.
They had abandoned me again.
The next morning, the sun rose again.
I floated in the air, watching my mother busy herself in the kitchen. Sausages sizzled in a pan, the smell of coffee filling the house. She wiped her hands on her apron and carefully set the table.
Breakfast is ready! she called out.
Just a minute! Im almost done with my castle! Leos little voice chirped from his room.
Mom smiled, a flicker of exasperation in her eyes. As she turned, she noticed my empty seat at the table. Unlike the other three, piled high with food, mine was bare.
She paused. A complex, unreadable expression crossed her face. I watched her brow furrow in conflict. Then, with a look of resolve, she started walking toward the sunroom.
My non-existent heart fluttered. My ghostly hands clenched.
Her footsteps echoed in the hall. One step, two steps, closer and closer.
Was she finally going to find me? Would she be sad that I was dead?
My gaze was fixed on her hand as it reached for the curtain.
DING-DONG!
The doorbell rang.
Honey, can you get that? Dad yelled from the other room, where he was helping Leo with his LEGOs.
Moms hand stopped. She hesitated for a moment, then turned and walked toward the front door.
My spirit sank. So close. She was so close to seeing me. Why now?
I drifted after her as she opened the door. A delivery driver stood on the porch. He handed her a package, then wrinkled his nose and sniffed the air inside.
Whoa, maam. Whats that smell? Cooking something funky?
He practically shoved the package at her, got his signature, and bolted, as if being chased.
Mom closed the door and sniffed the air. There was a strange smell, sickly sweet with an undercurrent of rot that turned the stomach. She frowned and began to search for the source.
The trash was empty. The fridge was fine.
She followed the scent, and it led her right back to the sunroom door. The smell was strongest here.
She placed her hand on the curtain again, about to pull it back.
My heart, or the memory of it, leaped into my throat. Mom, pull it back. Im right here. Your Lily is waiting for you.
Found it! Dads booming voice suddenly echoed from the kitchen.
His shout broke her concentration. She completely forgot about the overpowering stench coming from the sunroom.
Dad emerged, holding a plastic bag that was dripping a dark liquid. I knew I smelled something! Its the fish I was trying to cure a few days ago. The heat must have spoiled it!
He pinched his nose and held the bag out for her to see. The putrid, fishy odor completely masked the smell of my decay.
Mom recoiled, covering her nose. Get that out of here! It stinks!
Dad took the culprit and tossed it into the large trash bin outside. But Mom still stood there, frowning, staring at the sunroom as if trying to remember something.
Just as a final glimmer of hope sparked within me, Leo, finished with his LEGOs, came running out and threw his arms around her legs.
Mommy, Im hungry.
His voice shattered her train of thought for good.
Well, lets get you fed. Your breakfast is ready.
Okay!
And just like that, I was forgotten.
At the breakfast table, Leo chattered about his day at kindergarten, his mouth full of eggs and toast. My parents listened, laughing and smiling. After breakfast, the happy family moved to the living room. The air conditioning blasted cold air as they ate slices of chilled watermelon.
Cartoons played on the TV, and Leo giggled. Dad handed him the biggest slice of watermelon, his face full of adoration.
He leaned back on the sofa and sighed contentedly. Leo is such a good kid. So easy to love. His tone shifted, becoming laced with disgust. Not like that little ghost, always sulking around. The sight of her ruins my day.
The mention of my name finally jogged Moms memory. She glanced uneasily toward the sunroom.
Keeping her in there is that really okay? Its been almost a whole day.
Whats there to be afraid of? Dad slammed his watermelon rind into the trash bin with a loud bang. Shes not going to starve to death.
He sat up straighter, his voice full of self-righteousness. Besides, didnt the doctor say she was frail? That she needed more sun? Well, if shes not going to repent, she can stay in there and get some sun! Its not like it will kill her!
Dad always had a twisted way of justifying everything.
And Mom was convinced. She nodded, agreeing that it made sense. Lily is too spoiled. She needs to be taught a lesson, or shell be impossible to manage later.
And so, with a few careless words, they sealed my fate.
A little while later, the doorbell rang again.
This time, it was my aunt.
Aunt Carol, my dads sister, was the only person in this family who had ever truly, unconditionally loved me.
Mark! Sarah! she called out, her voice preceding her as she walked in, her arms laden with bags of produce from her garden. She set everything down and immediately looked around. Wheres my Lily-bug?
It was always the first thing she asked.
My parents faces grew awkward. Mom spoke first, forcing a smile. Oh, Lily shes at a friends house for a sleepover. She left yesterday. Said shed be back in a couple of days.
A sleepover? Aunt Carols brow furrowed. Which friend? I didnt hear her mention anything. She knows to call me when she stays over somewhere.
She pulled out her phone. Ill just give her a call. I brought her those smoked sausages she loves.
Dad shot forward and put a hand on her arm. Oh, let her be. Shes having fun with her friends. Dont be a spoilsport and call her. His voice was rushed, his eyes darting away from hers. Besides, her phones probably dead. It wont go through.
Aunt Carol paused, looking at them with suspicion.
Just then, she sniffed the air, and her expression changed. Mark, what is that smell?
It was an odor beyond description. It was the smell of a forgotten trash can, fermenting for a week in the summer heat. It was the smell of a fish market at closing time, of rotten shrimp and old blood.
It was the smell of a body, beginning to decay under the relentless sun.
Aunt Carols face grew paler and paler. She followed the smell, step by step, toward the sunroom.
My parents faces went white.
Carol, where are you going? Dad lunged forward, blocking her path with his arms outstretched. Theres nothing to see over there. Its just a mess.
Mom hurried over and grabbed her arm. Hes right, were just storing some junk in there. Its smelly, dont go over there.
They werent trying to hide a crime. They were just trying to hide their shame. They were afraid that if I saw my aunt, I would tattle, I would complain, I would make them lose face.
They never imagined I could be dead.
Junk? Aunt Carol shook off my mothers hand, her eyes fixed on the closed glass door. What kind of junk could smell like that?
Dad was still trying to lie. Its its fertilizer! We bought some a few days ago, and I think I think it went bad! Thats all it is!
Fertilizer? Aunt Carol let out a cold, sharp laugh. Mark, do you take me for a child? What kind of fertilizer smells like that? Are you growing corpses in here?
Her words were like hammers, striking my parents hearts. Aunt Carol knew her brother and sister-in-law too well. Their every glance, every nervous gesture, told her something was terribly wrong.
Move, she commanded, her voice dangerously quiet.
Dad tried to block her again, but she shoved him aside with surprising force. He stumbled, nearly falling.
Aunt Carol rushed to the sunroom door, gagging at the wall of stench that hit her. Without a moments hesitation, she reached out and, with a violent rip, tore open the heavy, light-blocking curtain.
The fabric was flung to the side.
The noon sun poured in, unfiltered and blinding. A wave of terrifying heat, thick with an almost solid odor, billowed out from behind the glass.
It was hot. Scalding. Like opening a giant steamer.
And then, they saw what was inside.
Aunt Carols hand froze in mid-air. Every drop of blood drained from her face.

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