My Family Killed Me But I Got My Revenge

My name was Chloe Miller, the most unremarkable middle child in my family.

My older sister was a piano prodigy. My younger brother was the family's golden boy. My existence seemed to be solely for the purpose of highlighting their brilliance.

The doctor said I might not live to see my eighteenth birthday.

When I got home, Eleanor's face immediately darkened as she saw me. "What trick are you trying to pull now? Are you deliberately trying to ruin Seraphina's party?"

"Eleanor, I'm sick, very sick. The doctor said I'm dying..."

She snatched the paper from my hand and slapped it to the floor. "Dying? I think you're desperate for attention! How could I have given birth to such a lying daughter!"

To punish me, Richard locked me in the storage room.

Seven days later.

The storage room door was kicked open. Eleanor's curses filled the air: "Chloe Miller, do I need to beg you? Get out! This cake is even too disgusting for a dog to eat, but it's yours now!"

But Eleanor, the smell of decay was already so strong. Could you truly not smell it?

Your daughter was already rotting inside.

Bang!

A loud crash, and I stumbled, hitting a wooden crate in the dusty storage room.

The dust choked me, making me cough until my chest ached.

"Reflect on your actions in here!" Richard glared at me, pointing a finger at my nose. "You can come out when you understand where you went wrong!"

"I didn't do anything wrong! The diagnosis is real! I'm really sick! Richard, believe me!"

I braced myself against the wall, trying to argue.

"Believe you?" He scoffed. "Eleanor is right. We've spoiled you rotten! You'd even make up such lies just to get attention!"

"Do you know how much Seraphina has sacrificed for her competition today? The whole family wants her to be happy, and you just have to jump out now and put on a show!"

"I'm not putting on a show!" I cried, trying to grab his sleeve.

He recoiled in disgust. "Enough! You only ever use this act to gain sympathy!"

Seraphina scoffed from outside the door. "Richard, don't waste your breath on her. The guests are waiting for you downstairs. If we don't go down soon, they'll think something scandalous happened in our family."

She paused, her voice dripping with schadenfreude. "Chloe, just stay in there and be your tragic heroine. Whatever you do, don't come out. You'll scare the guests with your ghastly appearance."

"Seraphina!" I trembled with rage.

"Why are you yelling? Did I say anything wrong?" She chuckled. "Oh, right, I forgot to tell you. Eleanor already tore up your diagnosis. That kind of trash paper would only dirty our floor."

Seraphina scattered the torn pieces of paper over my head.

My heart clenched, the pain making me almost lose my footing. "How could you..."

"How could we not?" Eleanor's voice also rang out. "Chloe Miller, I'm warning you, tonight is Seraphina's most important day. If you dare make another sound or ruin the atmosphere, you'll see what I do to you! Stay in there until you learn how to be a daughter who doesn't embarrass the family!"

I looked at Richard desperately.

He didn't look at me, turning instead to Eleanor and Seraphina with a placating smile. "Alright, alright, let's go downstairs. Don't let this ruin your mood."

The click of the lock sealed me off from the world.

I threw myself against the door, pounding on the wood. "Open up! Let me out! I'm really sick! I'm going to die!"

"Richard! Eleanor! Please!"

But the only response was the sound of piano music drifting up from downstairs.

I slowly slid to the floor, leaning my back against the door.

I could hear the guests' laughter downstairs, Richard's toast, Eleanor proudly introducing her genius daughter to everyone.

"My daughter, Seraphina, she's been talented since she was little..."

"This gold medal is just the beginning, her future is limitless!"

No one remembered that there was another me upstairs, a daughter slowly fading away.

Waves of pain washed over me, and my consciousness began to blur.

I curled up in the corner, hugging myself tightly.

The storage room was filled with old family items, each one discarded, just like me.

I don't know how much time passed, but footsteps sounded outside the door. It was my younger brother, Ethan.

"Hey, Chloe, are you still alive?" he asked in a childish voice, laced with malice. "Eleanor says you're a big liar, and you deserve to be locked up."

He kicked the door hard. "Stop making so much noise! Your voice is awful! If you dare to die in there, don't come haunting me as a ghost!"

With that, he skipped away.

I closed my eyes, tears streaming down my face. The piano music continued.

The sound seemed to tell me that this family had nothing to do with me.

I was just trash... something that could be thrown away at any moment.

The first day was spent in hunger and intermittent heart palpitations.

There was nothing to eat in the storage room, not even water.

My lips were cracked and peeling. I didn't dare to cry out loudly anymore; that would only accelerate the consumption of my already dwindling strength and put more strain on my heart.

I could only curl up, trying to keep my breathing shallow.

In the darkness, my senses became unusually acute.

I could hear the clinking of dishes and forks downstairs, and smell the food.

A pang of pain shot through my stomach. I pressed my abdomen hard, burying my head in my knees.

Grrr...

My stomach growled at an inopportune moment.

I gave a self-deprecating laugh. My body wanted to live more than my heart did.

Memories surfaced uncontrollably.

I was ten that year, Seraphina was twelve, and we both came down with a high fever.

Eleanor stayed by Seraphina's bedside all night, wiping her body with alcohol, repeatedly checking her temperature.

I lay in the next room, my face flushed with fever, and called out, "Eleanor, I don't feel well."

She impatiently poked her head in. "Chloe Miller, how old are you? Can't you let Seraphina get some quiet rest?"

"It's just a fever, isn't it? Drink some hot water, sleep it off, don't be so delicate!" With that, she closed my bedroom door.

I made it through that night on my own.

The next day, Seraphina's fever broke. Because I didn't receive timely care, I developed pneumonia and stayed in the hospital for half a month.

The day I was discharged, I cautiously asked Eleanor, "Eleanor, do you like Seraphina more?"

She was peeling an apple for Seraphina, answering without looking up. "Seraphina is a star, you're... well, you're not. There's no comparison."

"As long as you're obedient and don't cause trouble for Seraphina, that's your greatest value."

It seemed that love and lack thereof were predetermined from the moment of birth.

I snapped out of my memories, and the pain in my heart returned.

I fumbled around, trying to find a more comfortable position to lie down. My fingers brushed against a cold object.

Using the light from the crack under the door, I made it out. It was a painting trophy I won in elementary school, long since discarded here.

My name, Chloe Miller, was engraved on it.

Back then, I also thought I could shine. But then Seraphina started learning piano. She needed a piano, she needed the best teachers.

The family expenses suddenly increased.

Eleanor looked at my easel and paints, frowning. "What's the use of a girl painting these? It won't put food on the table, and it costs money."

"Stop painting from now on. Save the money for Seraphina's tuition."

From that day on, my paintbrushes were broken, my dreams tossed into this storage room, gathering thick dust alongside this trophy.

Late at night, the noise from downstairs finally ended. I heard Richard and Eleanor's footsteps going upstairs.

They passed the storage room door, and I held my breath.

"Richard, do you think... that girl might actually be in trouble?" It was Eleanor's voice, hesitant.

My heart instantly leaped into my throat.

"What trouble could she be in?" Richard's voice sounded weary. "You still don't know her? She's always loved to use these tricks to get our attention. Starve her for a day, and she'll know she was wrong."

"You're right." Eleanor's voice returned to its usual tone. "Just let her stay in there and teach her a lesson. Otherwise, who knows what kind of trouble she'll stir up in the future."

"Alright, let's go to sleep. Tomorrow we still have to go with Seraphina to pick out a dress for the celebration gala."

Their footsteps faded, and my suspended heart finally sank.

I hugged my knees, burying my face, not crying, for my tears had long since dried up.

Suddenly, I heard a sound downstairs. I struggled to crawl to the door, peering through the crack in the floor.

It was Richard.

He walked directly below the storage room and stopped.

My heart skipped a beat.

"Richard..." I managed to squeeze a tiny sound from my throat, pounding on the floor.

He heard it. He stood still, seemingly wrestling with something.

One second, two seconds, three seconds...

Then he let out a long sigh and turned away.

On the third day, my body was so weak that I was losing the strength to even lift my hand.

My world was reduced to darkness, dust, and an increasingly fierce pain.

Occasionally, I would hallucinate.

I saw steaming hot meals laid before me. I saw Eleanor holding a glass of water, gently telling me, "Chloe, have some water."

I reached out, only to grasp at air.

Click.

There was a sound outside the door, not the key turning in the lock, but more like someone was there.

I laboriously lifted my head.

"Chloe Miller, are you still in there?" It was Seraphina. Her voice was very low.

I had no strength to answer.

"Hey, don't play dead." She seemed a little impatient. "I'm telling you, Richard and Eleanor took Ethan to the amusement park today to celebrate my competition success."

Her voice was filled with ill-concealed bragging. "We're going for a big seafood dinner tonight. I hear that restaurant's Australian lobster is famous."

"Are you very hungry?" she deliberately slowed her words. "I just ate a piece of tiramisu. Eleanor bought it especially for me. It was so delicious, the cream was fragrant and sweet..."

My stomach spasmed, and sour bile rose in my throat.

"Too bad you can't have any."

She changed her tone. "Chloe, don't blame us. Blame yourself. Why did you have to lie and make Eleanor angry?"

"If you just knock on the door now and loudly say, 'I was wrong, I shouldn't have lied,' I might consider bringing you a small piece of bread when I come back."

Her tone was like she was bestowing alms upon a beggar.

I leaned against the wall, listening. This was my sister.

She hadn't come to see if I was dead. She had come to savor my misery, to enjoy the feeling of stepping on me.

I closed my eyes, too tired to respond with a single word.

My silence seemed to enrage her.

"Chloe Miller, don't be ungrateful!" Her voice suddenly rose. "Do you think Richard and Eleanor will soften if you don't speak? I'm telling you, no way!"

"They were even discussing this morning that after my celebration gala, the whole family would go on vacation to the Maldives! No one will be home then, what will you do?!"

"You can just starve to death in there!"

After her curses, she kicked the door hard, and the sound of her high heels faded into the distance.

A vacation... perhaps they wished I would really die in there, so no one would bother them again.

I weakly smiled. The pain in my heart grew heavier and heavier. I knew my time was running out.

I traced lines on the floor with my finger. I wanted to write Richard, Eleanor, Seraphina, and Ethan's names.

I wanted to ask them, if I truly died, would they feel even a tiny bit of sadness? Even for just one second.

But I didn't even have the strength to finish writing the first letter of a name. My finger went limp, and I collapsed onto the floor.

Before I lost consciousness, I thought I saw a small wooden box. It was my treasure chest that I had secretly hidden when I was little.

Inside were my first family drawing, the first pencil Richard gave me, and the butterfly hair ribbon Eleanor tied for me.

There was also a small note, on which was scrawled, "I wish our family would stay together forever."

Forever... what a sarcastic word. I lay on the floor, my body growing colder and colder.

Just as my consciousness completely slipped into darkness, I thought I heard the sound of a door opening.

Not the storage room door, but the front door downstairs. They were back from the amusement park.

I heard Ethan excitedly shouting, "Eleanor, I want more ice cream!"

I heard Eleanor's doting laugh, "Okay, my sweet boy, I'll take you again tomorrow."

I struggled to turn my head, pressing my ear to the floor. The light from the living room peeked through the cracks, along with the cheerful laughter of their happy family of three.

It sounded so beautiful.

Too bad, it no longer concerned me.

Fourth day, fifth day, sixth day.

I had lost track of day and night. Hunger and pain no longer existed.

I smelled a strange odor emanating from my body. I knew I was dying.

Occasionally, when I was lucid, I would hear activity downstairs.

Eleanor was instructing the housekeeper to clean, preparing for Seraphina's second celebration gala. "Here, here needs to be sparkling clean! Seraphina's guests are very important, we can't have any oversight!"

"Bring out that new set of imported dinnerware, yes, the one I didn't even dare use for my own birthday."

Richard was on the phone, contacting hotels, confirming venues. "Yes, the banner needs to be prominently displayed, 'Heartfelt Congratulations to Ms. Seraphina Miller for Winning the Piano Competition Gold Medal!'"

"The lighting and music must be the best!"

Ethan was running around the living room, loudly reciting a poem he planned to perform at the gala. "My sister, the brightest star in the night sky..."

Every one of them was busy for the gala.

They had all forgotten about me, forgotten in the storage room on the top floor, or rather, they simply didn't care.

My existence was out of place. My death, too, was destined to be silent.

Seventh day.

I completely lost control of my body.

My soul seemed to float up, and I could look down and see myself, curled up motionless in the corner.

My skin had taken on a bluish-gray hue, covered in lividity.

So ugly, I thought.

Suddenly, a burst of applause and cheers erupted downstairs. "Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you!"

Birthday? I paused.

Yes, it was Seraphina's birthday today. And it was also my eighteenth birthday.

The doctor said I wouldn't live past my eighteenth birthday. I made it, or rather, my body did.

"Time to cut the cake!" Ethan's excited voice carried up.

I saw a three-tiered cream cake in the center of the living room.

Seraphina stood before the cake in a princess dress, her face beaming. Richard and Eleanor stood beside her, their eyes full of doting affection.

This birthday cake, it wasn't for me.

"Seraphina, make a wish quickly!" Eleanor urged.

Seraphina closed her eyes, clasped her hands, then blew out all the candles in one breath.

Another round of cheers.

I heard someone ask, "Mr. Miller, Mrs. Miller, how come we don't see your second daughter?"

The air was silent for a moment.

Eleanor's smile stiffened, then quickly returned to normal. "Oh, Chloe isn't feeling too well, she's resting upstairs."

She lied without batting an eye.

Richard also chimed in, "Yes, that child has always been delicate since she was little, she doesn't like crowds."

After the party, the guests gradually left, and the house finally grew quiet.

Eleanor looked at the haphazardly cut cake, not much left, and seemed to finally remember something.

She frowned, a look of disgust on her face. "What a waste."

She picked up a plate of leftovers, cream smeared with saliva, and said to Richard, "I'll go call that brat downstairs. Let her taste it too, so she can't say we mistreated her."

Richard nodded, not objecting.

So, I watched Eleanor carry the plate of cake and walk up the stairs.

Bang, bang, bang!

She impatiently kicked the door. "Chloe Miller! Are you done playing dead? Do I need to invite you out?"

"Get out! This cake is even too disgusting for a dog to eat, but it's yours now!"

She cursed as she used the key to unlock the padlock.

The door was kicked open by her.

A foul stench immediately wafted from the room, a smell that even overpowered the cream cake on her plate.

"Ugh..." She instinctively gagged, covering her nose. "What's that smell... Did you... did you go to the bathroom in there? It's disgusting!"

She used the hallway light to peer at the figure huddled in the corner.

"Hmph." She sneered, thinking I was still defying her.

She put down the cake, walked in angrily, grabbed my arm, and yanked it up hard.

"Don't you dare pretend..." Her words stopped abruptly.

The sensation in her hand made her freeze. It wasn't the skin of a living person, but an indescribable texture.

Something dripped down her fingers.

She instinctively looked down, meeting a pair of cloudy, unfocused eyes.

Those eyes were staring straight at her.

And her hand was gripping a piece of flesh that had already rotted and detached.