Following my sister, we arrived at the house I lived in before my death.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
She pounded on the door with irritation and disdain etched on her face. After a long while, no one answered.
Just as she were about to leave, the elderly landlord appeared. He lived right across the hall and must have heard the commotion.
"Where's Florence?"
The old man looked puzzled. "Florrie? That lovely girl. Her fate was so cruel; how could she have died so young?"
"Dead? That’s impossible!"
"You old man, you really know how to joke around."
My sister laughed dismissively, not believing it at all. In her eyes, I was just a nuisance. After all, a scourge stay for thousand year.
But this time, I was really dead.
"Who would joke about such a thing! Florrie really is dead."
My sister sneered again. "Florence never changes! She’ll use any excuse to seek attention. As her sister, I know her better than anyone."
"She’s a born troublemaker, not a patch on Evie. Tell her to stop playing games and donate her liver to Mom, or I’ll make her regret it!"
The elderly landlord’s face turned red with anger. He grabbed a broom and chased my sister away.
"I’ve told you, Florrie has been dead for three months, thanks to your family!"
"How much more do you want to torment her even now? Florrie’s misfortune is thanks to you people!"
My sister stood there, frozen in shock.
"You’re not joking? Florence is really dead? How could that be?"
"Get out! You heartless beast!"
With that, my sister turned tail hurriedly.
I followed my sister into the car. She lit a cigarette, and through the swirling smoke, I saw the dark cloud on her face.
Is she, perhaps, a little bit sad now that she knows I’m gone?
Amidst the flickering light of the cigarette, her phone rang. She glanced at the screen.
The contact name was “My Honey Evie”.
Ha, Evelyn is her “Honey Evie”. And me?
Oh, I’m the debt collector.
It’s strikingly consistent, the way the whole family refers to me.
My sister answered the call, and Evelyn’s voice came through, slightly choked and raspy.
“Sis, what did Florrie say? Is she still angry? Please don’t argue with her. I’ll go apologize to her. Florrie has a stubborn temperament. After donating the liver, she said she would never acknowledge us again, that even if she died somewhere, it would be none of our concern. I’m afraid she might do something foolish.”
Hearing this, my sister’s previously troubled expression instantly cleared. “Ha! Florence is so clever now, pretending to be dead!”
I stood there stunned.
My sister thinks I’m faking my death.
No investigation, no verification.
Of course, they don’t care about me. It’s always their subjective assumptions.
“What should we do? Mom can’t wait any longer.”
“I don’t believe it. Without Florence, there can’t be another suitable liver.”
Indeed, I will always be the one who should never have existed, easily replaceable.