When I was four, my younger brother, Noah, and I both drowned.
Only I survived, and from that day on, Mom hated me.
At night, countless times, she'd try to force colorful sweets into my mouth, but Dad always stopped her just in time.
Later, I cut off my long hair, shed my princess dresses, and tried desperately to live as Noah's shadow.
Only then would Mom spare me a glance.
Three years passed.
Mom became pregnant again, announcing that her beloved Noah had returned!
I was happy for her. Noah was coming back, which was great...
Because then, this family wouldn't need me, the replacement, anymore.
I found the "sweets" Mom had once tried to feed me, and quietly swallowed them.

The "sweets" dissolved in my mouth, releasing a bitter taste. I couldn't help but hunch over, dry heaving, bile and saliva rising to my lips.
These were the pills Mom had hidden in the deepest part of her closet three years ago. Back then, she would often sit by my bed late at night, her eyes vacant, whispering:
"Why aren't you dead yet?"
Now, I was finally fulfilling Mom's obsession.
I wore a boy's school uniform, its collar frayed. It was Noah's old uniform, long outgrown, but Mom said I had to keep wearing it to be more like him.
Mom's laughter, a tenderness I'd never heard directed at me, echoed from the living room.
She was stroking her stomach, talking to Dad, Robert:
"The doctor said it's definitely a boy this time. Look how stable the pregnancy is." Her voice was sickeningly sweet. "Soon I won't have to look at that blight on our family's face ever again."
I wanted one last look at Mom's smiling face.
Just as I reached the doorway, Dad saw me first, his brow furrowing. "Scarlett, why aren't you doing your homework?"
His gaze swept over my uniform, then quickly flicked away, as if he'd seen something offensive.
Mom turned, her smile freezing instantly. "Who told you to come out? Your hair's grown out again. Didn't I tell you to cut it short, just like Noah's buzz cut?"
She hurried over, her finger jabbing hard at my head. "Always causing trouble. When Noah is born, if you dare to bother him, I'll break your legs."
I flinched back, the red mark on my forehead stinging.
The "sweets" in my stomach seemed to be dissolving, a throbbing pain rising in my abdomen, forcing me to bend over.
Dad started to come to my aid, but Mom blocked him. "Don't touch her. She's probably just faking it for sympathy."
I bit my lip, saying nothing, slowly retreating to my room.
With every step, my stomach felt like it was being twisted by knives. My limbs began to go numb, and even my hands clutching the doorframe trembled uncontrollably.
I lay on the bed, my body starting to twitch.
The door pushed open. It was Dad, holding a glass of warm water.
He placed the glass on my nightstand, hesitating for a long moment before saying, "Scarlett, your mom is pregnant. Her emotions are a bit volatile, so don't take it to heart."
I shook my head, but only a weak whimper escaped. Dad's figure began to blur in my vision.
Dad sighed, then simply pulled the blanket over me. "Get some good sleep. You'll be fine tomorrow."
He closed the door as he left, and silence enveloped the room.
I reached under my pillow for the small toy car, Noah's favorite.
Most of its paint had chipped off, but I polished it clean every day.
Mom said it was Noah's, and I had to keep it safe. Last time, when a classmate tried to take it, I fought desperately, taking a beating to get it back.
Gradually, my vision blurred completely. I hugged the toy car tightly and closed my eyes.
Mom, Noah is coming back. You won't have to suffer looking at me, your replacement, anymore.
This way, it's truly good.


Slowly, I felt the pain fade away.
Like a dandelion seed carried by the wind, I floated gently into the air, clearly seeing the small body on the bed.
The crumpled school uniform clung to her, her face as white as paper, her lips an unnatural purplish-blue. A smudge of undigested bile still clung to the corner of her mouth, and in her hand, she clutched that small toy car.