After Eighteen Years as a Substitute, Sister Restarts My Life

On my eighteenth birthday, a fire brought me face to face with my sister, dead all these years.

She had become a reaper of the dead, come to collect souls, and the moment she saw my face her expression turned ugly.

I only take the souls of those who threw their own lives away. Your time isn't up. Why are you here?

"Is this how you repay Mom and Dad?"

My mouth twitched.

I thought of all these years, of the way Mom and Dad had raised me as my sister's replacement.

They gave me her name, made me wear her clothes, made me copy the way she talked and walked.

The moment I disobeyed, I got thrown into a boot camp to be tortured.

I gave a bitter smile.

"Of course I've done right by them. They're the ones who wronged me."

"You've got all these powers now. Go take a look for yourself and you'll know why."

My sister glared at me, cold.

"Fine."

"If I find out you've been lying to me, I'll throw you into the deepest pit of hell and make sure you learn your lesson."

I watched her drift slowly into my body, and said it silently to myself.

Mom, Dad, I've given your daughter back to you.

Will you cherish her this time?

...

I trailed along beside them, curious.

When Marianne Armstrong opened her eyes, Mom and Dad froze for a second, then threw their arms around her and cried out, eyes red.

"You foolish child! Do you have any idea how badly you scared us?"

"The doctor said it was so close! Your face was almost ruined!"

"If something had happened to you, what would we do?"

Marianne had been dead for eighteen years. It had been a very long time since she'd been held by them like this.

She stayed frozen for a long moment, her eyes slowly reddening, and leaned against Mom's chest, apologizing in a muffled voice.

"I'm sorry, Mom, Dad. I made you worry."

I watched them dissolve into tears with a cold eye, and reminded Marianne quietly.

"You'd better tell them yourself that you'll write your confession letter and go study at the boot camp."

"Otherwise they're about to lose it."

Marianne frowned and spoke into my mind.

What are you talking about?

Look how much Mom and Dad care about you. They got you your own private hospital room, and there's all this food laid out on the table.

How could you bear to leave them and kill yourself?

I said nothing. I only glanced at the few familiar dishes on the table.

Lean pork porridge, apples, and a plate of scrambled eggs with tomato.

Marianne hadn't noticed at all that every single one had been her favorite food when she was alive.

Which was why I had eaten these things for eighteen straight years.

Three meals a day. Never once changed.

Marianne shot me a look and soothed Mom and Dad in a gentle voice.

"This was my fault this time. It won't happen again, Mom, Dad."

"I'm hungry. I really want some of your porridge, Mom."

Mom wiped her tears and nodded, smiling.

"Good. It's good that you're hungry. Mom will feed you."

Marianne smiled up at her, then shot me another look.

See? Mom never once fed me by hand before.

And you didn't even appreciate any of it!

I thought about what was coming, and said nothing. I just looked away, unable to watch.

Eighteen years of the same food had built a muscle memory into this body, and a rejection along with it.

The moment I tasted any of those three things, I would throw up.

Sure enough.

Marianne had barely swallowed one mouthful before she gagged it back up.

"Why is this porridge so awful?"

The words were barely out.

Mom and Dad's faces darkened in the same instant.

Mom set the bowl down on the table and asked, her voice cold and low.

"You've been eating this porridge for eighteen years. What's awful about it?"

"Marianne, you want to be locked up in the training camp again, is that it?"

Marianne frowned and gave me a strange look.

Why are Mom and Dad calling you by my name?

Is it a homophone?

I didn't answer that. I glanced at the porridge she'd spat onto the floor and sneered.

"You'd better get up and clean it, or watch her pin you to the floor and make you lick it up."

Marianne's mouth twitched.

How could that happen? Nobody's that extreme.

You're Mom and Dad's own daughter. They'd never treat you like that.

She turned back with a sweet smile and apologized to Mom, playing up to her.

"I'm sorry, Mom. Maybe it's because I just woke up. The porridge tasted bitter to me."

"How about I eat the bunny apple Dad cut for me first?"

And she picked up an apple slice cut into a bunny shape off the table, eager to please, and popped it into her mouth.

I let out a cold laugh beside her.

I watched Marianne's face screw up as she spat the apple out too, then told her, all helpfulness.

"Now you'll have to kneel on the floor and apologize before they'll forgive you."

Marianne clutched her stomach, face gone white, and snapped at me.

It's one piece of apple. So I spat it out. Why would they make me kneel over that?

Stop trying to scare me!

But the next second.

Mom had her by the hair, dragging her off the hospital bed and onto the floor, cursing.

"Marianne! You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

"These were all your sister's favorite foods when she was alive! She can't eat them anymore, so where do you get off wasting them?"

"Looks like we really have been too soft on you. Next time we're keeping you in that boot camp a few extra days."

Marianne's whole body jolted. Struggling, she asked.

"...what boot camp?"

Whatever softness had been in their faces was gone. When she said it, they only looked colder than before.

"What now? Come up with some new trick to fight us with?"

"Don't think faking amnesia gets you out of the boot camp!"

"You set the house on fire on purpose this time. Now the neighbors are pointing at your father and me, whispering. For that, you're staying an extra month, whatever it takes!"

Marianne froze mid-struggle. Something clicked into place a beat too late, and her eyes went wide.

"But I'm your own daughter!"

"And besides, Ihow many years has my sister been dead now?"

"I can't stomach the food she liked. What gives you the right to force me?"

I closed my eyes and sighed.

I'd thrown that same demand at them more times than I could count in eighteen years.

It only ever ended one way.

A sharp crack.

The slap landed clean across Marianne's face, and for a second it stunned her completely.

Dad glared at her, stone-cold.

"So now you're rebelling, is that it?"

"You're nothing but your sister's replacement. Where do you get the nerve to talk back to your mother and me?"

"Get down on your knees and apologize!"

I crouched beside Marianne, watching the shock on her face, and said quietly,

"Now you understand why, don't you?"

"To them, you're the daughter. I'm only your stand-in."

I told her everything they'd done to me over eighteen years, one word at a time.

No name of my own.

No likes or dislikes I was allowed to have.

Even the way I spoke and moved had to match how Marianne had been when she was alive.

Marianne loved kittens. I was allergic to cat fur, but they made me keep one anyway.

Marianne got top marks when she was alive, so on every test I had to score exactly what she'd scored.

One different number, even once, and I'd "broken character."

Then it was back to the boot camp, back to the "shock therapy," round after round.

As if I were nothing but a vessel that happened to be named Marianne.

"Take my advice. Instead of fighting them, just admit who you are. That's the only way they won't throw you into that training camp."

By the last few words my whole body was shaking, and I couldn't stop it.

Even dead, I was still terrified of that so-called training camp.

In there, I never felt like a person.

More like some beast whose sins could never be forgiven.

Marianne's eyes trembled, and she looked at me with an ache I could feel.

I never knew they'd treat you this cruelly because of me!

Don't worry. I'll make them apologize to you, I swear!

She looked like she'd made up her mind. Her fists clenched as she stared at them.

"What did I do wrong that I have to apologize?"

"Let me tell you, I'm not going to that damn training camp either!"

"I'm an adult. This is a threat to my safety. Try meI'll call the police!"

I watched how naive she was and shook my head, half crying, half laughing.

"Say that, and they still won't let you off."

The words had barely left me.

They stared at her through gritted teeth and bit out three "goods."

Then Dad took out the phone remote and pressed the button on it.

In an instant Marianne's whole body started to convulse.

The collar at her wrist kept pouring current into her.

Only when her screams began to weaken did Mom press pause.

Cold all through, I looked at Marianne slumped weak on the floor and sighed.

"Just apologize, sis. There's no chance they'll ever admit they're wrong."

Marianne clenched her jaw hard, and in the end she gave in.

"I'm sorry. I was wrong."

Satisfied, they smiled.

Mom crouched down and held Marianne close, tender now, patting her shuddering back.

"Good girl, Marianne."

"As long as you live on nicely in your sister's place, Mommy and Daddy will love you forever."

Marianne's lips twitched, and she passed out, drained.

A moment later her figure appeared beside me, and she said through gritted teeth:

"They really have lost their minds!"

"You just wait. Your sister is going to get you away from them, no matter what!"