After I Blew Out My Sister’s Candle, My Parents Stopped Loving Me Chapter 05

After I Blew Out My Sister’s Candle, My Parents Stopped Loving Me Chapter 05

My father’s voice shook so badly it barely sounded like him. “Ellie? Are you still in there?”

No answer came from inside.

I wanted so badly to answer him. Dad, I’m here. I’m right behind you.

But I couldn’t make a sound.

His trembling hand reached for the attic doorknob, and that was when he realized it was still locked.

He fumbled for his keys and jammed one into the lock, his breath coming in ragged hitches. “Ellie, Ellie, I’m

sorry.”

“I was in such a hurry chasing after Chloe, I didn’t mean to leave you locked in here.”

“I’m opening it right now. Don’t be scared.”

The lock clicked open.

Dust rushed out the moment the door swung inward.

My father coughed hard, groped for the light switch, and turned on the attic light.

The bare bulb swayed, casting long, dancing shadows.

And then he saw me, curled up in the corner.

My body was covered in bloody scratch marks where I had clawed at myself, and there were still tears dried

on my face.

The next second, my father let out a scream so raw it tore through the whole house.

“Ellie!”

My mother came running to the sound of his agony. “Why are you yelling like that? You’re going to scare

Chloe.”

“You found Ellie? That disobedient little girl, I swear, just wait till I—”

She never finished.

The moment she reached the attic doorway and saw me, her eyes flew wide open and her voice died in her

throat.

She lunged forward, then collapsed to her knees beside me.

“Ellie! What happened to you, Ellie?”

“Don’t do this to me. Don’t scare Mommy like this.”

“Wake up. Ellie, wake up!”

Mom, I couldn’t wake up anymore.

I watched her hands tremble. I watched her lips tremble. And I still couldn’t even hug her.

d the commotion too. She ran over and stopped on the stairs, clutching the railing as the

fom her face.

rushed in and tried to pick me up, but the moment his hands touched me, he froze.

My body was already cold. Already stiff.

“Ellie… this is all my fault…”

“Daddy’s here. Daddy’s here now. I’m calling a doctor right now…”

He yanked out his phone and dialed 911 with shaking hands. “Hello? My daughter’s hurt. Please come,

please come now.”

“My address is 12 Hawthorne Lane, Silver Brook Estates-”

After he hung up, his shoulders started shaking violently, and tears spilled silently down his face.

“I’m sorry, Ellie. This was all my fault. I never should’ve shoved you into the attic just because I was angry.”

“I only wanted to scare you a little. I never meant to really leave you in there.”

“I thought… I thought you’d come out on your own…”

“But I was so angry I forgot the door was locked.”

I reached out and gently patted him, even though I knew he couldn’t feel it.

It’s okay, Dad.

You always told me that brave kids admitted when they were wrong.

So I didn’t blame you anymore.

Then my mother’s voice came out in a ragged, broken rush as she started hitting my father. “You… how

could you lock her in the attic?”

“Did you forget? Did you forget Ellie was allergic to dust?”

My father said nothing. He only cried.

My mother lowered her head to look at me, and when she saw my swollen mouth, she touched it with shaking fingers, her face crumpling.

“Ellie, I never should’ve hit you. I was wrong…”

Then suddenly she slapped herself hard across the face.

“I never should’ve said those horrible things to you. I never should’ve told you I didn’t have a daughter like

you.”

“How could I say something so cruel to my own child? This is all my fault. All of it!”

ing herself over and over like she had gone mad, until my father aught her hands in his.

is voice had broken.

I floated there watching them, and I couldn’t even describe what it felt like inside me.

Mom, please stop. I knew you didn’t mean it.

Even after she finally stopped hitting herself, she still held me and cried so hard she could barely breathe.

Then something slipped out of my pocket and fluttered to the floor.

A few little drawings, rolled up and wrinkled.

They were pictures I had made for my family.

I treasured them, so I had always kept them with me.

My mother noticed.

I watched her trembling hand reach for the papers and slowly open them one by one.

Before, whenever she had tried to peek at them, I had always hidden them away and refused to let her see.

Every child had little secrets. Little things they kept tucked inside their heart.

I did too.

Now she was finally seeing them. I thought maybe she would be happy.

Maybe if she saw them, she would stop crying.

I looked at her expectantly.

But to my shock, even more tears came pouring down her face.