The Dream That Killed Me Chapter 07

The Dream That Killed Me Chapter 07

But it didn’t take long before she was grasping at any hope she could find.

She fell to her knees, clutching the paramedic’s legs, begging.

“Doctor, please. Save my daughter. Please save her!”

“She’s still so young!”

“I’m so sorry.”

The paramedic’s face was full of pity.

My mother shook her head.

“Doctor, my daughter’s a good girl. She wouldn’t just leave us.”

“You can save her. There has to be a way.”

“I’m begging you.”

She bowed to the floor, again and again, until her forehead bled.

My father muttered to himself.

“It’s not possible. Lily can’t be dead. We broke the dream, didn’t we?”

“And the dream never said Lily was the one who’d die.’

“She’s so mischievous. She’s been texting us all these days. She must be hiding somewhere,

playing a trick on us.”

He held my severed finger in his hand, shouting like a man losing his mind.

“Lily, come out! I promise, if you come out right now, I won’t send you away. I promise!”

A nurse came out of the bathroom holding my phone, asking carefully:

“Is this the patient’s phone?”

Claire’s pupils shrank. She lunged for it.

My father shoved her back without thinking. She fell.

Reflexively, she clutched her chest. Then she started crying out in pain.

Mom started to go to her.

Dad grabbed my phone first, and opened the messages between me and Claire.

He read them out loud, word by word.

[You’re just garbage nobody wants.]

[Oh, I told Mom and Dad to go check on you ages ago, but they said you didn’t matter,

[As long as I’m around, you’ll never get to have a birthday.]

[You want to die? Then go ahead and die.]

Nothing like the story Claire had told them.

I stood off to the side, and suddenly, it all made sense.

Claire hadn’t just started hating me recently. She’d never loved me at all.

It’s just that once I died, I’d forgotten all that pain.

Dad turned toward Claire like a wooden puppet.

His lips moved, but no sound came out. Tars rolled down his face.

Mom froze, blood covering her whole face.

She looked at Claire.

Everyone looked at Claire.

And Claire laughed.

She laughed, beautiful and proud, exactly the way I remembered her.

“That’s right. It was me.”

“Why should she get to be the healthy one?”

“Why do I have to lie in bed every day, waiting for God to decide it’s time to take me?”

She laughed, even as tears slid down her face.

I envied Claire for having our parents’ love. She envied me for being healthy.

Turns out we each had the very thing the other wanted most.

She pulled a second phone from her bag.

“But who knew you two were dumb enough to believe whatever I told you?”

Dad lunged at her and slapped her, hard.

“She’s your sister!”

Claire was knocked to the ground, coughing up blood.

She clenched her teeth and glared at him.

“How dare you hit me!”

“Isn’t her death your fault, not mine?”

“You had some stupid dream and turned into a paranoid mess, and you’d pump her stomach if she

ate one extra bite.”

“Don’t you remember? That gash on her head-that’s from you, from the time you shoved her down for walking half a step ahead!”

I saw Dad stagger, then drop to his knees.

“No… no, that’s not… I did it for you. I did it to protect you!”

Claire let out a bitter laugh.

“So there you go, my darling father. You’re the real executioner.”