Ever since my mom gave birth to her second child, everything in the household is tied to drawing lots.

Everyone has to draw lots in order to decide whose favorite food will be served for each meal. We have to draw lots to see who among us gets a hug from our parents.

Every time, I end up drawing the short end of the stick, so everyone automatically assumes that my younger sister, Anabelle Madden, gets the better lot. She easily reaps my parents' love without having to do anything at all.

Whenever I feel like crying because of the injustice, Mom will scold me instantly.

"I bought the lottery box because I was worried that you might feel upset about this. I'm doing this just to be fair to both of you.

"If you want something, you have to be the one deciding who gets what. Your father and I won't interfere with your decision at all. Since you can't draw the better lot, that just means you have bad luck."

Hence, I keep practicing my lot-drawing skills every day, hoping that I can eventually draw the better lot in order to obtain my parents' love.

But for ten years, I never get to draw the better lot. Not even once.

On my birthday, Anabelle wants to go to the amusement park, so Mom tells us to draw lots once again.

I secretly glue two short lots together before giving it to Mom in an attempt to get her to stay with me.

Instead, she slaps me and berates me for being a disobedient child who cheats in lot-drawing. Then, she leaves the house with Anabelle.

When I fall to the floor, I feel the short sticks piercing through my neck.

Something warm flowed down my neck, running through my hair and staining the floor.

The floor is dirty now, and I knew that Mom would get angry at me for that.

I wanted to wipe it off, but I suddenly felt as if I were suspended in the air.

As it turns out, I was dead.

I knew what death was. After all, Grandma had also died on the floor like this when I was seven years old.

She had been in a huge fight with Mom at that time, and she wouldn't stop calling Mom a haughty lunatic.

"Just say it if you love one daughter and not the other! What's the point of using drawing lots as a front and gaslighting Belle into thinking it was her fault? If you don't want Belle, then let her come with me! I'll bring her back to my hometown!

"If not, then get rid of that damn lottery box, and love both of them equally instead!"

Mom had then retorted with a cold laugh, saying, "How I love and treat my children is none of your business. Of course I love both of them!

"But there will always be times when favoritism plays up, and that's something I can't help. That's the only reason why I developed this system so that I could treat them both equally fair and square!

"They have to rely on their luck every time they want something. Neither their dad nor I will interfere. And it's not our fault that Isabelle can never draw the longer stick every time. She only has her bad luck to blame!"

Grandma had then gotten so mad that she collapsed to the ground and never woke up again.

Mom's lottery-based discipline only grew more severe over time.

If there were two boiled eggs for breakfast, Mom would still make me and my younger sister, Anabelle, draw lots. Usually, when I drew the shorter stick, I would always assume that Anabelle got the longer stick in the end. So, she would get to eat both eggs, and I would get none.

Mom also made us draw lots when it was time for dinner. If I got the short end of the stick, she would then cook only all of Anabelle's favorite dishes, even if I was severely allergic to all of them.

Mom would always sigh helplessly at me and say, "The rules are rules and cannot be broken. What can I say? It's your fault for always getting the short end of the stick."

Even when I was sporting a high fever at 102 degrees and came crying to Mom asking to be held, she would make me draw lots. If I got the short stick, she would turn and hug Anabelle instead.

"You really have terrible luck, Belle," Mom told me.

I spent my entire life drawing lots for everything. Even after my death, I was still thinking about it.

I remembered that the casket Grandma had been buried in was very wide and comfortable. Mom was the one who had bought it for her, and everyone praised Mom for being such a kind and understanding daughter-in-law.

I wanted Mom to be nice to me too, because the bed I'd been sleeping in for five years was so small that I couldn't even straighten my legs while sleeping in it anymore.

However, that had also been the result of drawing the shorter stick at that time.

I wanted to find Mom and beg her to let me draw lots again. If I finally got lucky and drew the long stick this time, I was sure that Mom would immediately agree to buy a large casket for me this time!

My soul floated to the door, and I suddenly heard footsteps outside.

My eyes lit up. Then, I saw Mom pushing the door open.

"Mom!" I exclaimed excitedly.

However, Mom walked right through my body and went past me.

So, as it turned out, I couldn't touch Mom anymore.

I followed her and carefully made my request in a very small voice, but Mom couldn't hear me at all. Also, she hadn't come back for me. She'd just forgotten to bring her car keys with her.

When Mom's eyes paused at my bedroom door, I hurriedly explained myself as if I'd just been caught red-handed.

"I didn't mean to die on purpose, Mom! I'm also sorry for making a mess in the house. I'm sorry, Mom, I promise that I…"

I trailed off sadly before adding, "I can't clean up after myself anymore. I… I'm dead now…"

Mom stood at my closed bedroom door, speaking in a nonchalant tone.

"How dare you not come out to greet me after knowing that I'd come back? You think you're all grown up now, don't you? You've got a fine temper now, don't you? Is that how you behave with your mother now?

"But let me tell you that there's no use even if you keep sulking like that. You were the unlucky one for getting the short end of the stick. You have no one else to blame but yourself."

When she realized that I still didn't open the door for her, she got a little angry and grabbed the door handle. Just then, Anabelle ran into the house.

"Mommy! Hurry up! The amusement park is going to open very soon!"

Mom gave up on trying to enter my room. She just grabbed her keys and left with a huff, leaving for the front door.

"We're going to be out until late at night. We're not coming home for dinner. Eat the chicken leg at the table as your dinner. And don't you dare complain that I'm not being fair to you.

"Your sister hasn't even eaten it yet, and you didn't even have to draw lots for this meal. I'm already being very kind toward you by favoring you now."

The chicken leg was actually Anabelle's leftovers from yesterday.

Mom had come back from the grocery store yesterday with this chicken leg. She then made us draw lots, and I drew the short one again.

I hadn't had meat in a very long time, so I touched the chicken packaging, feeling a little greedy for it. And then, Mom slapped me so hard on the wrist that my skin turned a bright red immediately.

She yelled at me in disgust and said, "Have you forgotten all about the rules, Isabelle Madden? You got the short end of the stick, which means that the chicken leg belongs to Anabelle! You're absolutely not allowed to touch it!

"If you try touching it again, I'm going to chop every single one of your fingers off!

"Really, I haven't seen anyone as greedy as you! You're making it seem as though I've been abusing you and starving you all day!"

However, Mom suddenly let me eat it without having to draw lots.

She was so kind to me after all.

I was very happy at first. However, I forgot that I was just a floating spirit now, and I couldn't touch or hold the chicken leg anymore.

Meanwhile, a stray cat hopped in through the open window and snatched the chicken leg away.

It hissed angrily at me, and there was no way for me to stop it from stealing my chicken leg. The only thing I could do was to go into a corner and cry sadly.

A long while later, Mom, Dad, and Anabelle finally came home. They all looked very happy and had radiant smiles on their faces.

"Mommy! The polar bear had such long fur on its body! It's so fluffy too! I like it a lot! Can you buy it for me, please, Mommy?"

Mom kissed her on the forehead affectionately and playfully scolded her.

"Unfortunately, I really can't do that, Ana."

Anabelle scoffed and took a step back.

"Don't kiss me! We haven't drawn lots yet. If Isabelle sees us, then she's going to cry loudly again and say that you're not being fair to her!

"But maybe she's already crying in a corner of her bedroom today right now. It's her birthday today, after all."

Mom glanced at the table and saw that the chicken leg was already gone. She chuckled nonchalantly and said in a very certain tone, "Well, if she can draw the long end of the stick, then I could have kissed her too! But she's such an unlucky thing who has never been able to get it.

"Also, she's already eaten the chicken leg on the table. She's just not coming out to greet us on purpose. Don't bother about your sister. She's just a petty little bitch."

Nobody could see me, and nobody knew that I had already died in my bedroom.

Mom began preparing supper. She called out in a weird and sarcastic tone, shouting at my bedroom door, "Well, is somebody not coming out to draw lots for supper? Then, I'm just going to make Anabelle's favorite food now! Don't you dare come crying to me about me being unfair later on!"

Dad, who was watching TV, lost his patience and said irritably, "Why do you even still care about her? Forget about drawing lots. Just make Anabelle's favorite food and let her starve if she wants to!

"We were the ones who brought her up. It's bad enough that she doesn't know how to be thankful, but to think that she still has the nerve to hold grudges against us? What an ingrate!"

I stood to the side, thinking to myself.

What was the point of drawing lots? It's been ten years, and every time, the table was always only filled with Anabelle's favorite dishes, while I could only eat plain spaghetti noodles every single time.

But still, at the very least, Mom and Dad didn't exactly starve me to death. Wasn't that right?

In the end, Mom still made Anabelle's favorite dishes.

Mom, Dad, and Anabelle sat together at the table, chatting and laughing among themselves, looking like a big, happy family.

I felt a little lonely and went over to Mom.

Suddenly, I realized that there was a cake box on the chair right next to her. I then turned to the stray cat at the window and began boasting to it, saying, "See that? That's the cake Mom and Dad bought for me. They didn't forget my birthday today."

The stray cat just glanced at me briefly, almost as if it were making fun of me.

Mom then took the cake and gave it to Anabelle, saying she had bought it especially for her because Anabelle had wanted it just now. She also spoke in a low voice, as if she was worried that I'd overhear her.

"Bring it to your bedroom secretly and eat it there. If not, Isabelle is going to come crying to me again."

I had actually only cried one time, but Mom wouldn't stop bringing it up for ten years.

Actually, I wasn't very upset about it because I knew that even if I got the chance to draw lots, I would most probably get the short stick again. There was no helping it. I just had terrible luck each time.

Anabelle was still the one who'd get the cake after all.

"I've never had cake before. Have you?" I asked the stray cat.

It suddenly jumped into the house through the window, knocked over the cake in Anabelle's hands, and scampered out of the window immediately.

The cat had also scratched Anabelle on the hand, and she burst into loud tears.

However, Mom just grabbed the nearby vase and smashed it angrily at my bedroom door instead.

"Isabelle Madden! You did this to your sister on purpose, didn't you? Why didn't you close the window while you were home?"

Seeing that I still wasn't coming out of my room, Mom flew into a rage. However, Dad came over to her and held her back.

"That's enough. Don't bother about her. We just need to get Anabelle to the hospital as quickly as possible. We'll get even with Isabelle after we've come back!"

By the time Mom and Dad finally came back, it was already at the crack of dawn.

Mom and Dad knocked on my door at the same time. They couldn't hear anything behind the door either, and they finally lost all patience, grabbing a hammer and getting ready to smash my door down.

In the end, the neighbors complained to them about the noise, so Mom and Dad gave up on the idea and instead launched a barrage of angry insults at my door.

Mom then bought a beautiful princess gown for Anabelle. She twirled around happily in it to show it off.

"I cried when the doctor gave me the vaccine jab, and Mom felt so sorry for me that she bought me a new dress and took me out for steak!

"You've never had steak before, have you? It's your fault for having bad luck! If you got the long end of the stick, Mom would also bring you shopping for new clothes and getting steak for dinner!"

My blood then seeped out through the crack at the bottom of the door.

Anabelle slipped on it and fell. She screamed at the top of her lungs, immediately drawing Mom's and Dad's attention to her.

"What happened? Why is there so much blood on the floor?"

Dad stared at the slit in the door in panic and horror. "It looks like it's coming from inside Belle's room. Belle—"

However, his suspicions were interrupted by Anabelle's loud screaming.

"I just wanted to show Isabelle my new dress, but she told me to get lost! That's all my blood! My heart hurts!"

Mom blew her fuse immediately. She began kicking heavily at the door in a rage.

"Isabelle Madden! Get out right now, right this instant! How dare you make Anabelle bleed everywhere like this and still stay in there without coming out?"

This time, Mom really wanted to ram the door down, kicking at the door harder and harder with all of her might.

My body was mangled beyond recognition from the repeated slamming of the door against myself. I didn't know if they would be scared to see me like this now.

They didn't manage to get the door open. Mom had no choice but to bring Anabelle away to bandage her up, but not before calling me every derogatory insult under the sky.

Actually, this wasn't the first time Anaballe framed me like this.

Growing up, every time she did something wrong, she would immediately burst out crying first before blaming everything on me while screaming at the top of her lungs.

Mom was always very fair. She would never care who the real culprit was and would make us draw lots first. Whoever got the short end of the stick would be the one receiving the punishment.

Of course, I was the one who always ended up getting punished.

If I were still alive, I wondered if they would lock me up in the attic without food or drink, or make me stand outside in the rain for the entire night this time.

I floated all the way downstairs and suddenly realized something.

Tears instantly streamed down my face.

I had finally found out the reason why I never seemed to draw the long end of the stick for ten whole years.