Since I can remember, I have been a liar. That is the conclusion my mother made about me.

After my twin brother, Daniel Benson, and I are born, she becomes obsessed with a so-called scientific parenting method.

So, she puts a lie-detecting collar on each of us. Whenever we lie, the collar lights up in red.

The moment it turns red, she presses a remote and shocks me. She says it will help form muscle memory to correct the bad character in me.

Daniel's collar is always green.

Even when he tears my mom's favorite clothes to shreds and calmly claims a dog does it, the collar still glows green.

But I am different.

Even if I just say, "Mom, I’m thirsty,"

The collar would suddenly flash a blinding red light. Then, a current shoots through my neck and into my body, making me tremble in pain.

At first, I try to explain.

But my mom always says the same thing. "The machine doesn't lie. You have to feel pain to learn. I'm doing this for your own good."

After being shocked thousands of times, I slowly start to believe that maybe I am truly born a liar.

On Christmas Day, my mother was getting ready to take my brother, Daniel Benson, to watch the fireworks when I felt a sudden, violent pain in my stomach.

I curled up on the floor, breaking out into a cold sweat.

"Mom… Help me… My stomach hurts…"

My voice was shaking, but the collar around my neck started flashing red like crazy.

Mom stood over me, staring down at me without a hint of emotion. She dialed the shock up to the highest setting.

"So now you're pretending to be sick just to go watch fireworks with us? How could you even think to put on such a fake show? It's revolting. You're seriously rotten to the core!"

She grabbed Daniel and walked off. The door slammed shut, and the bang made my ears ring.

I couldn't help thinking maybe she was right. Since the collar was flashing red, that meant I couldn't really be in pain.

I must just be me pretending to be pitiful and trying to get attention again.

I couldn't be any more sorry, Mom. If there were a next life, I would definitely try to become a more honest person.

"It hurts…"

The pain had me trembling all over. I clawed at the floor, leaving claw marks behind.

Just then, the doorknob suddenly turned. Hope flickered in my eyes.

Mom came back. Since she was a doctor, she must have realized something was wrong with me. She must have come back to save me.

"Are you still not done with your act? The fireworks are about to start. Danny's already getting impatient."

Standing at the doorway, she looked annoyed.

"Mom…"

Using the last bit of strength I had left to speak, I reached a hand out toward her. "It really hurts… Feels like my intestines are being torn apart…"

She glanced at the wildly flashing red light on my collar before crouching beside me.

Grabbing my chin, she angrily snapped, "Irene Benson, how long are you going to keep this up? Lying has become a habit for you, hasn't it? Stay here and reflect on yourself!"

Dad's voice came from the doorway. "Honey, hurry up. The fireworks show is about to start. Irene will be staying at home, right? Should we leave her some food?"

Standing up, Mom dusted off her hands, as if she'd just touched something dirty. "Why should we? She's got a pile of snacks in her cabinet that she bought with the money she stole last time. She won't starve."

Turning to me, she added, "Let's lock the door. She's not allowed out until that collar turns green."

Dad hesitated. "But—"

"But what?" Mom cut him off immediately. "Being too soft on kids just ruins them. Look at how well-behaved Danny is. His collar's always green. Someone like Irene is just born bad. She needs to be corrected."

But there was nothing in my cabinet at all. Daniel was the one who took that money back then. He was the one who ate those snacks, too.

He had been standing right there at the time, his collar glowing a soft green as he said it wasn't him. And Mom believed him.

But when I had said it wasn't me, the red light lit up instantly, followed by another shock to my neck.

I watched Mom turn and walk away.

Poking his head round the door, Daniel stuck his tongue out at me. "Bye, Irene. We're going to watch the super pretty fireworks now."

The collar around his neck was glowing bright green.

What a nice color…

With a bang, the door slammed shut. The sound of the door locking was like a blow straight to my heart.

The house became terrifyingly quiet all at once. I was the only one left at home, with my stomach aching like it was being sliced open.

Even though it hurt a lot, Mom said that machines would never lie.

My collar was red, so I really had to be lying.

It didn't hurt. This pain wasn't real. I cried while desperately telling myself those things.

After a long time had passed, it really did seem like it didn't hurt as much anymore.

I used all the strength I had to crawl toward my desk.

I needed to write a self-reflection. That was the rule in this house. Whenever the collar flashed red, I had to write a thousand words. The content was always just one sentence—"I am a liar."

Mom would forgive me once I was done, right? Maybe she would even take me to the hospital then.

With incredibly shaky hands, I opened the crumpled notebook.

It was densely filled with my past reflection essays. All I used to write were sentences like, "I'm sorry. I was wrong. I won't lie again."

But this time, I wanted to write some truths.

My vision grew blurry, and tears kept falling as I slowly wrote, "Mom, I really love you. I really am in pain. Why won't you believe me? Can you believe me just this once, Mom?"

The moment I finished writing my last word, the pain in my stomach suddenly vanished.

The feeling was replaced by a strange lightness I had never felt before. It felt like I had become weightless, and I was slowly floating upward.

Looking down, I saw myself slumped over the desk. My hand hung in mid-air, and I was perfectly still.

The collar around my neck was still flashing red nonstop.

Oh, I was already dead.

But… I still didn't know how to be an honest child.

I'm sorry, Mom.

…

The sound of laughter woke me up. It was Mom, Dad, and Daniel.

"The fireworks were so beautiful! That smiley face one was especially adorable, just like our Danny!"

Mom sounded genuinely happy, and I had never heard her use such a gentle tone before.

While floating in the air, I watched the front door open.

I instinctively drifted over to them, ready to do what I always did, which was to greet them with water. That urge to please them was practically part of me by now.

"Mom."

I spread my arms, wanting to hug her. "It doesn't hurt anymore. I'll be good from now on. Please don't be angry with me anymore."

Alas, my hands went right through her, as if she were made of nothing.

Mom abruptly shuddered. She frowned, asking, "Why is it so cold in here? Did we not turn on the heater?"

I looked down at my translucent hands.

Oh, right. I was dead. The dead couldn't touch the living.

Dad casually said, "Go check on Irene. She hasn't come out to eat. We can't actually let her go hungry."

I looked at Mom expectantly. If she found out I was dead, would she be sad? Would she feel remorse?

Letting out a cold snort, Mom walked toward my room. "If she starves, that's on her. She pretended to be sick just to get attention. That's what happens when we spoil her too much."

When she opened my door, she noticed the lights were off. With the aid of the light spilling from the living room, she spotted me slumped over my desk, motionless as if asleep.

She stood there with her arms crossed, sarcasm thick in her voice. "Oh? You're lying there now? You think acting pitiful will get me to carry you to bed? Irene, you're ten. You're no longer a five-year-old."

Standing beside her, I screamed desperately, "Mom, I'm not acting! I'm already dead! Just touch me! My body's already cold to the touch!"

But she couldn't hear me. She only believed what she wanted to see.

Daniel squeezed his way under her arm and proudly displayed his neck. "Irene is so lazy! Look, my collar is green! Irene's is still red!"

Daniel added, "Irene is always lying. She's even lying in her sleep!"

Mom patted Daniel's head, her voice turning gentle. "Our Danny's such a good boy. Leave her be. She can lie there all she wants. Let's see if she can stay like that forever."

Dad looked in from the doorway. "Should we carry her to her bed? It's winter. She'll catch a cold."

Mom cut him off instantly. "Why should we? Kids these days are just spoiled. Even the experts say so. This kind of behavior needs to be corrected with cold treatment. She has to realize her mistake on her own."

She pointed at the red light on my collar. "See this? It's still red. That means she's still acting out on the inside. She hasn't reflected at all. That's enough. Let's head to bed. We still have to visit my parents tomorrow."

She turned to leave, pulling the door shut behind her and locking it.

Floating beside my body, I stared at the glaring red light in the darkness. The chill in my heart felt colder than death itself.

If Mom had just taken one step closer and touched my hand, she would have realized that I had already gone completely cold. But she didn't.

She trusted only that emotionless device, not the daughter she carried for ten months.

In the middle of the night, a rat crawled out from the empty cabinet.

I used to be terrified of rats. I would scream every time I saw one. But now, I could only float around the ceiling, watching it crawl all over my body. "Go away…"

I weakly tried to shoo it away, but my voice failed me.

As the rat bit into my toe, dark purple blood oozed out. Still, I couldn't feel pain anymore.

How nice. Finally, there was no more pain.

Looking at my pitiful body below, I muttered, "Don't be scared. You can't feel anything anymore. It'll be over soon."

The next morning, sunlight fell on my body, though it brought no warmth.

From the kitchen came the clinking of pots and pans. Mom was making breakfast.

The smell of eggs slipped through the crack of the door. That used to be my favorite smell.

However, I was only ever allowed boiled vegetables before because Mom said liars didn't deserve anything else.

That day, she deliberately banged the spatula on the pan loudly. It was obvious that she was trying to tempt me, trying to make me come out and admit fault.

If it were before, I might really have admitted to things I didn't do just for an egg. But now, I didn't need to eat anymore.

"Irene still hasn't come out yet?" Dad asked. He was sitting at the table reading the newspaper.

Mom slammed a plate down. "No. She's as stubborn as a mule. This is all because we've spoiled her. If she doesn't want to eat, then so be it."

Daniel sipped his milk, his eyes rolling with mischief. He then ran over to my door and deliberately sniffed loudly, exclaiming exaggeratedly, "Mom, Irene's room smells so bad! Did she poop and pee in there?"

I floated by the door, looking at Daniel with a bitter smile. With the heating on full blast, I had already started to rot after just one night.

Mom would hate me even more now.

Mom walked over with a frown. She banged on my door, yelling, "Irene, are you a pig? The toilet's just right there! Do you not have legs? How could you poop in your room?

"You're seriously beyond help! Did you seriously have to do something so embarrassing just to spite me?"

I remembered that when I was little, I once had acute gastroenteritis and couldn't make it to the bathroom in time, so I ended up soiling my pants.

Mom didn't help me clean up. Rather, she made me stand in the yard and told the neighbors that I was as dirty as a pig.

Now, she thought I was dirty again.

Mom waved her hand in disgust like she was shooing a fly. "Leave her! Let her stay in that stench and choke on it!"

Dad put down his newspaper, frowning. "The smell is seriously strong. I'll go check. Maybe there's a dead rat or something."

He got up and walked toward my door, making my heart lurch in an instant.

"Dad, open the door quickly! Please look at me! I'm just beyond the door!"

If he just turned the handle, he would see that I couldn't move anymore, and he would see how dark my face had become.