5
Lily seemed more stubborn than they thought. Ten whole days passed, and she still hadn’t come home. When the calendar turned to June, Mom’s patience finally ran out.
“She won’t answer her phone, won’t reply to messages. What is Lily trying to do?”
“This home, she can come back or not, I don’t care!”
Mom was so angry she dumped a freshly stewed pot of ribs. “Eventually, she’ll understand that Dad and I are only doing what’s best for her!”
Dad sat on the couch, chain–smoking.
The TV happened to be airing a news report at that moment:
“The suicide by jumping incident involving a senior at DanYang High School continues to spread. The education board is thoroughly investigating illegal tutoring practices, and DanYang High School has announced a ten–day break before the finals..”
DanYang High School, senior, jumping.
These words pierced Mom’s eyes like needles. Mom suddenly grabbed the phone from the table.
“Quick, call Lily back! Someone from her school jumped, we absolutely can’t let it affect our daughter…”
Mom dialed my number again and again, but no one answered. After the seventh busy signal, Mom angrily slammed the phone on the ground.
“Lily has completely rebelled! How dare she not answer my calls!”
Dad slowly spoke. “Stop calling. Lily is already dead.”
The words dropped, and the air fell into an eerie silence.
“What did you say?”
“I said, Lily’s gone. We saw it with our own eyes that day.”
Mom stood frozen, as if someone had choked her.
“No that wasn’t Lily. Lily wasn’t that thin..”
D
6:36 AM M
<
“No, that wasn’t Lily. Lily wasn’t that thin…”
Dad extinguished his cigarette, saying with difficulty, “Lily had a scar near her eye, from when you hit her as a child. I saw it that day, but you kept saying it wasn’t her, so I didn’t dare say anything…”
Mom’s expression was blank for a moment. The immense shock kept her from fully processing it.
“Lily’s incident caused a huge commotion, and the school, under pressure, even gave ten days off,” Dad’s voice grew
softer, afraid of upsetting Mom further.
Mom, still wearing her apron, strode out the door.
The hospital corridor was empty, only the sound of her heels echoing. Mom stared intently at the doctor’s heels; where he walked, she followed.
“You left too quickly that day. The hospital called so many times, but you never answered. The patient’s body has already been moved to the morgue.”
Opening the morgue door, a cold gust of death washed over them. “The deceased’s face is not pleasant to look at. Family should be prepared.”
Mom trembled as she pulled back the white sheet. A purplish–blue face appeared before her eyes. Mom immediately
caught sight of the scar near the corpse’s eye.
A sudden, sharp cry broke the silence of the morgue. Mom crouched on the ground, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably.
My soul watched all this, feeling a strange annoyance. When a person is alive, you don’t cherish them, but after they’re dead, you put on this show for whom?
Mom’s sobbing grew louder. Dad put his arm around Mom’s shoulder. “The dead cannot return; don’t be too sad. From a height of four floors, few people survive that jump.”
The doctor looked up at Dad with a strange expression. “Who said the deceased died from external trauma? The patient had a heart condition and died from cardiac arrest. She seemed to have experienced a great shock before death.”
1
Mom’s eyes suddenly widened. She suddenly remembered that before her daughter jumped, she had verbally abused her
in front of everyone.
She had said, “Lily, why can everyone else endure classes but you can’t?”
She had said, “Lily’s mind isn’t on her studies. She skipped class and probably went off to mess around somewhere. So
shameless.”
She had said, “Lily, you’ve let down your teachers and your parents. You’re using your parents‘ hard–earned money and
not studying seriously. You’ll get your comeuppance.”
Mom had spilled all my childhood embarrassments in front of the whole class. Everything I’d done, everything I hadn’t, poured out of Mom’s mouth. My classmates burst into laughter.
I stood in the crowd, my blood freezing. My heart felt an indescribable ache. The moment I pulled open the window and
<
As the wings of memory swept across the river of time, the numb emotion finally erupted. Mom suddenly burst into
tears. She had longed for her daughter to succeed for half a lifetime, only for her daughter to die from her harshness.
I thought Mom was crying for me, but then I heard her say: “My life is so bitter! Lily, you’re gone, what will Robert and I
do now?!”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
Mom had been selfish her entire life. Even with her daughter dead, her first thought was her own future.
However, even more cruel than Mom was Dad.
Dad said to Mom, “Lily jumped at school, so the school should bear full responsibility. We can expose the school to the media; maybe we can get a million or so in compensation.”
My body lay in the morgue, still cold. Dad, in front of his daughter’s remains, talked about money and profit.
The doctor sounded a bit exasperated. “Let’s prepare for the funeral arrangements first. Leaving the body at the hospital
isn’t a solution.”
Dad and Mom took my body home. Mom insisted on setting up a memorial display at home. Dad said, “That’s fine, we
can collect more condolence money that way.”
My memorial display was set up, but no relatives came. Mom sat blankly in front of it, murmuring, “Why is no one coming to see Lily… a bunch of heartless relatives…”
I laughed in the air, tears streaming down.
Ever since I could remember, Mom had proudly bragged to relatives and friends, “My Lily will be a genius who gets into a prestigious university. She’s not like your kids who can only get into average schools.” Relatives advised Mom not to push me too hard, saying it could lead to big problems. But Mom thought they were jealous and gradually cut ties with them.
Now.
Mom sat there alone, frail and helpless. Dad sighed. “Good riddance to those awful relatives; at least this whole mess
showed us their true colors!”
Mom said nothing, staring blankly at the bare nameplate before her. She suddenly noticed the memorial display was missing a photo.
Mom picked up her phone, frantically searching her photo album. The album had travel photos, food photos, flower photos, but not a single picture of her daughter. Mom searched for a long time and finally found one from three years ago. The photo was from the class Ins account. I stood at the very back of the group photo, looking haggard, my eye bags bigger than my eyes. Mom’s finger kept swiping across the screen. As she zoomed in, the pixels blurred. My face blurred
too.
Mom’s tears suddenly fell.
“I don’t even have a picture of Lily…”
“Our daughter didn’t like taking pictures; it’s not our fault.” Dad was still shifting blame.
<
Mom looked coldly at Dad. “Our daughter is dead. Why haven’t you shed a single tear?”
“Real men don’t cry easily, but I still feel for my daughter. I even bought her a dress for her birthday six years ago, it cost
over a hundred bucks!”
Mom countered, “Lily’s eaten and worn clothes I’ve taken care of her whole life. Have you ever cooked her a single meal?
Do you know how tall she is? Do you know what size clothes she wears?”
Dad stammered a bit. “I’m a man; I’m busy making money to support the family.”
Mom scoffed. “Who knows where you’ve been putting all that money.”
Mom’s words hit Dad where it hurt; he always cared about his image.
“Eleanor, what do you mean? Now that our daughter’s dead, you’re blaming me?”
“If it weren’t for you constantly forcing Lily to study, would she have jumped to her death? Don’t always blame others; reflect on yourself for once.”
Mom’s mouth opened slightly, a hint of panic flashing across her face. In truth, she didn’t want to admit that she was the
one who had killed her daughter. These past few days, she had been self–medicating, pretending to love me. But she didn’t
even have a single photo of me. From beginning to end, all she truly loved was my academic performance.
