The day my Stanford acceptance letter arrived.

My sister said she couldn't handle it anymore, left a note, and jumped off a bridge.

My parents were inconsolable.

They not only tore up my acceptance letter but also fell for some charlatan's spiel and locked me in a coffin for a week to "cleanse" the spirit.

All so they could hopefully see her again on the seventh day.

I was in agony, crying and screaming until my nails were torn and bloody, and all they could say was, "You owe her this".

Eventually, I died in that coffin from suffocation.

A week later, my sister waltzed back as if nothing happened.

Meanwhile, my parents had completely lost it.

***

"Smack!" The slap left half my face numb.

My ears were ringing; I could barely hear.

Dad was livid like he could eat me alive.

"Why did I raise a daughter so vain like you? You had to show off in front of your sister, or your ego would kill you?"

"Your sister jumped in the river, and you're happy? Is this what you wanted?"

Mom, clutching the suicide note, broke down.

Everything about this note screamed of how I overshadowed her, showed off, put her down, mocked her, and made her feel small. She couldn't take it anymore, she just couldn't stand the world I made for her.

I was baffled—where was all this "pressure" even coming from?

At home, Emily was the golden child; whatever she said, our parents swallowed whole, striving to give her the world.

And there I was, stuck with her hand-me-downs.

Despite there being two spare bedrooms, she claimed one and turned the other into a dressing room.

It left me banished to the musty old storage room downstairs, sweltering in summer and freezing in winter.

Mom always said it was because, as the elder, I had hogged the nutrients in the womb, which left Emily weak and sickly at birth.

So I bit my tongue and never complained—even though it hurt, I always stepped aside for Emily.

But why was my hard-earned spot at Stanford suddenly a problem just because Emily flunked her exams?

Watching Dad rip my acceptance letter to shreds and throw it away like trash tore a hole in my heart.

I bent down to pick up the pieces.

Suddenly, Mom went off the deep end, yanking me around. "You've been nothing but trouble, a jinx, hogging everything since the womb, always bullying her."

"Why couldn't it have been you?! Give me back my Emily!"

Pushed to the ground, tears blurred my vision. "Mom, am I not your daughter too?"

Her eyes, fiery and filled with scorn, looked at me as if I were the plague. "No, you are not. My daughter is Emily, you're just a disaster. I wish I'd strangled you at birth before you had the chance to ruin her. Oh, my poor Emily..."

She was gasping for air between sobs, her eyes ablaze with utter loathing.

Dad approached, discarding the shredded paper. "Sarah, you're a murderer. It's your fault Emily's gone. How can you even think of college? You should be buried in the trash, that's the only way to atone."

They locked me in the storage room for the night.

By the next morning, hunger had me dizzy, but finally, the door swung open.

Dad carried me out.

Mom spoon-fed me seafood soup.

She even prepared a bath, claiming I was too weak to wash myself, and helped scrub me down.

"I was too harsh yesterday. Let's get you cleaned up and rested," she said, her forced smile tight.

Despite everything, her care touched a long-neglected part of my heart, and I started crying.

"I'll be good, Mom. I'll study hard and take care of you both."

She nodded absently, clearly distracted, and rushed me to bed after cleaning up.

Late at night, drifting in and out of sleep, I heard soft chanting, like a prayer or incantation.

Then, someone lifted me into a confined space filled with a strange aroma of sandalwood.

The fear of the unknown paralyzed me; I wanted to move, to shout for my parents, but felt bound.

After struggling with all my might, I managed to open my eyes— only to meet the cold, indifferent gazes of my parents.

And above me, a plank halfway closed.

Shocked, I realized I was actually in a coffin.

The plank that was about to seal me in was indeed the coffin's lid.

Shaking, I tried to sit up, but Dad forcefully pushed me back.

With tears brimming in his eyes, he explained in a fanatical tone, "The guru said Emily carried a grudge against you when she was drowned, and it's on you. We have to keep you here, without food or water, to clear her spirit. If we do, maybe she'll come back one last time after a solid week."

I stared at him, disbelief etching my face. How could they even fall for that crap?

I tried to talk him out of it. "Dad, there are no ghosts or spirits. If Emily's gone, she's really gone."

Mom wiped away a tear, her voice softening, "Just do as we say, Sarah. Emily hasn't even visited our dreams. She's mad at you. Stay here for one week, and if she returns, all will be forgiven. I'll make it up for you later."

"Mom!" I yelled, tears streaming. "I won't survive seven days without food or water."

"You will. The guru cast a spell, it's just to cleanse your spirit and disperse Emily's grudge. You will be good by then, and once we've seen her one last time, which is our last wish, we will get you out of it. I'll cook all your favorite dishes and spare Emily's room for you."

"Don't bother explaining. After the seventh day, she'll be the only daughter left, everything will be hers. We just ask her to lie there quietly, and she acts as if we were gonna soak her in boiling oil. Her selfish nature makes her never be as good as Emily." Dad chimed in.

He started to close the lid without waiting for my response.

Desperate, I clung to the coffin's edge, crying uncontrollably. I was too weak to fight back the desperate situation.

They'd drugged me to keep me still, and even if they had gotten me out of the storage room, they were showing me the last vestige of their care—all for Emily.

Heartbreaking sobs escaped me. "Please, Dad, I don't want to die!"

As the coffin lid closed, suffocating despair overwhelmed me.

"Mom, please, I'll do anything. Just help me..."

Mom turned away, a flicker of remorse crossing her face. "Just stay put. Once it's over, I'll make everything right."

"A curse that echoes through the ages. If your death could bring her back, that would be your blessing."

As the coffin sealed completely, Dad's final words robbed me of any remaining strength.

The air in the coffin grew thin, making the sleeping pills kick in harder and leaving me groggy.

I weakly pushed against the lid, but the solid oak didn't give.

Mom looked worried. "Did you double-check with the guru? Are you sure this is safe?"

Dad dismissed her concerns with a wave. "I've covered everything. This guy's top-tier, almost impossible to book. It cost 200,000 dollars to get his advice. He guaranteed that if Sarah stays in there for a week, all of Emily's negative vibes will be cleansed. He'll guide Emily's spirit back to us on the seventh day. And Sarah? She won't just survive; she'll be better than ever."

Relieved, Mom clasped her hands as if praying. "Lord, please, my poor Emily must come back."

Dad reassured her with a pat on the back. "She will. Emily was too good-hearted. If it weren't for Sarah pushing her too far, she'd still be here. It's all Sarah's fault, that harbinger of doom."

Mom's frown deepened, her sigh heavy. "Sarah's always been self-centered. A week in that coffin might teach her a lesson."

I could hear their voices fade, leaving a numbness in my heart.

The crushing lack of air sparked a fierce survival instinct in me.

Desperately, I thrashed against the lid, blood smearing as I struck my head.

"She's still so strong even after those pills; I better get some nails to make sure it's shut tight."

Mom hurried over to hold down the lid. "Yes, quickly, before she breaks free. If she does, the guru's spell might fail, and we can't let that delay Emily's spirit."

Despite the thick wood between us, their cold words felt like knives stabbing into my heart.

My screams were heart-wrenching. "Mom, it hurts—I can't breathe. Please, save me..."

"Quit your drama, Sarah. Wasn't killing your sister enough? Now you want to disrupt her spirit too? We're asking for such a small thing, and you can't comply. How did I end up with such a cold-hearted daughter?"

Dad came back with nails, each hammer strike echoing like it was hitting my soul. "Sarah, you owe this to your sister. Just stay put, and in seven days, you'll have everything. No more Emily to compete with for our love."

My voice was barely a whisper amidst the despair.

Love? Did I ever really feel what it was like to be loved?

After securing the coffin with nails, they tapped it firmly, satisfied only when it felt solid.

My face was wet with tears mixed with blood.

Trapped in the pitch darkness, I couldn't tell if it was day or night. Time blurred as I lay there, my fingernails broken, scraping helplessly at the lid.

I had no energy left to scream. My fingers traced the wood one last time, then fell limply.