Too Late for Regrets I Promise I Won't Get Sick Again, Mommy

My parents were a toxic couple. They were deeply codependent, but they’d rather die than admit they loved each other.

Instead, they weaponized their cruelty toward me to hurt one another. Later, they finally cleared up their misunderstandings and realized their true feelings.

But then, they turned around and poured every ounce of their love onto my prematurely born little sister, Lily. The day it happened, I was beaten up by some neighborhood kids.

That very night, I developed a burning fever. I dragged myself out of my room and saw Mom feeding Lily scrambled eggs. "Mom, it hurts...

I feel so sick..." Mom didn't even look up. "Stop acting out, Daisy." "I really have a fever..." "Cut the act," Dad said, his tone absolute. "I've seen this trick of yours a thousand times." As I struggled back to my room, I heard Mom's tender voice calling out to Lily: "Good girl, eat up.

You really are Mommy and Daddy’s little angel." Lily was their little angel. And I was probably just the kid who was always in the way.

When I woke up again, I felt completely weightless. All the pain and sickness were gone. Curious, I looked down.

I was still lying on the bed, my cheeks flushed a sickly red, my lips dry and cracked. Even in my sleep, my brows were knitted tight. Wait, did I float out of my body?

I tried to move, and sure enough, I drifted right through the blanket, hovering just beneath the ceiling. The door pushed open.

Mom walked in, her face wearing her usual mask of impatience. "Daisy! What time do you think it is? How long are you going to sleep?

Get up, eat, and take Lily downstairs to play!" I waved at her from the ceiling, shouting, "Mom! I'm awake! I'm up here!" But she couldn't hear me. She couldn't see me.

Her gaze passed right through my floating body and landed on the me on the bed. Dad appeared at the doorway.

He didn't come in, just frowned and took a quick look. "Let her sleep a bit more. She didn't look right yesterday." Mom instantly snapped around. "What do you mean, 'not right'?

She's just lazy! She's addicted to playing sick! Look at Lily. She got dressed all by herself this morning and is waiting for breakfast!" Lily came bouncing to the door.

Mimicking Mom, she pointed at the bed. "Daisy is a lazybones!" I wanted so badly to tell Lily that I wasn't lazy. I just couldn't wake up anymore. But they couldn't see or hear me.

Angrily, Mom walked to the bed. I quickly floated down, trying to grab her hand. But my hand passed right through her arm. I felt nothing.

She didn't gently feel my forehead with the back of her hand the way she did when Lily had a fever. She didn't check on me with concern.

She just violently ripped a corner of the blanket away, grumbling, "Terrible sleeping posture.

Wrapping yourself up so tight, aren't you afraid of suffocating?" She picked up the empty water glass on my nightstand and scoffed. "She drank all the water.

Looks like she's perfectly fine." She didn't notice at all that the water was poured yesterday morning. I hadn't had a single drop of water for a whole day and night.

I drifted through the wall into the living room. Mom and Dad were sitting with Lily, watching an educational cartoon on the TV. I leaned against the doorframe, watching them.

Dad glanced toward my room, a flicker of worry in his eyes. "Daisy hasn't eaten all day.

I should go wake her up." Mom cut him off instantly, her tone sharp and final. "Skipping one meal won't kill her! She's just playing on your soft heart.

She's doing this on purpose to manipulate you! So young, yet so full of schemes! Leave her be. Let's see how long she can sleep.

If she's so tough, let her sleep forever!" Lily waved her little hands, parroting Mom in her sweet, baby voice. "Daisy is bad!" Nobody came to check on me. Mom, I wasn't being bad.

I really am awake. Look, I've been floating right here for so long. It's just that the girl lying on the bed... she doesn't have the strength to wake up anymore.

In the afternoon, the doorbell rang. It wasn't a package, nor was it a neighbor. Standing outside the door was Mrs. Higgins, my homeroom teacher. Mom opened the door. Seeing Mrs.

Higgins, she froze for a moment, then quickly put on her usual polite, distant smile. "Mrs. Higgins? What brings you here? Please, come in." Mrs.

Higgins walked in, her eyes instinctively scanning the quiet living room before finally resting on my closed bedroom door. "Mrs. Miller, sorry to drop by unannounced.

I wanted to check on Daisy. She missed school again today, and I'm a bit worried. She's never been one to skip class without a reason." Mom’s face darkened almost instantly.

Her fake smile vanished without a trace. She didn't even invite Mrs. Higgins to sit.

Instead, she stood in the middle of the living room like a stone wall, her voice cold and rigid. "Thank you for your concern, Mrs. Higgins. She's fine.

She just doesn't want to go to school, so she's throwing a tantrum and pretending to sleep! No matter what I say, she won't get up. I've given up on her." Mrs.

Higgins frowned slightly. "Pretending? No, Mrs. Miller. Daisy isn't that kind of child.

She is one of the most mature, sweetest kids in my class." "Actually, I came to tell you some good news.

Last week, our class had only one nomination for the District's Kindness Ambassador Award.

Every teacher and student voted, and Daisy won." She took out a beautifully designed certificate from her bag. "The other kids all said Daisy is always quietly helping everyone." "When her classmate threw up, while other kids ran away, she was the first to grab a mop.

And during the charity drive for the orphanage, she donated all her savings, leaving nothing for herself... Didn't she tell you about any of this?" Mom stared at the certificate.

Her eyes held no joy, no pride—only disbelief and growing irritation. "Kindness Ambassador?" Mom’s voice suddenly rose, becoming sharp and piercing.

She didn't even reach out to take the certificate, as if it were something filthy. "Mrs. Higgins, you’ve all been fooled by her! She's nothing like that at home!

She wants nothing more than to turn this house upside down!

She doesn't appreciate how hard we work to take care of her baby sister at all!" "If she's so kind, why does she bully Lily every single day?

Why is she so selfish, pretending to be sick just to get attention?!

She's just a..." The venomous word she had used to call me a thousand times was right on the tip of her tongue, but in front of the teacher, she forced herself to swallow it down.

Her chest heaved violently. Mrs. Higgins looked shocked. "Mrs. Miller... do you... do you really think that of Daisy?

A child might act differently at school and at home, but a kind heart can't be faked. Is it possible... you have some misunderstanding?" "Misunderstanding?

What misunderstanding could I have?! I'm her mother! I know her better than anyone!" Mom was completely triggered now.

Her voice was so high it practically scraped my eardrums. "She's a curse! She was born to make my life miserable! You only see her fake sweet act.

Have you seen her pathetic, stubborn face at home?! I wish I had never given birth to her!" "Rip!" Mom snatched the certificate right out of Mrs. Higgins's hand.

Without even looking at it, she crumpled it into a ball and threw it hard onto the floor! Mrs. Higgins took a step back, startled by the sudden outburst.

She opened her mouth, but in the end, she said nothing.

She just let out a long, heavy sigh, her face filled with exhaustion and deep disappointment. "Since... since that's how you feel, I won't take up any more of your time." She turned and left, her departure quick and heavyhearted.

Mom slammed the door. The loud bang echoed through the house.

She didn't even look at the crumpled ball of paper on the floor—the only piece of recognition I had ever received from the outside world.

Her chest was still heaving, and she kept muttering like she was reciting a curse: "She's not sweet! It's all an act! So young, yet she already knows how to manipulate people.

She fooled her classmates, her teachers, and now she wants to fool me?! I'm telling you, Daisy, not a chance!" She screamed toward my bedroom door.

And I just floated beneath the living room ceiling, quietly staring at the crumpled certificate on the floor. Mom, I wanted to be a good kid too.

I wanted to make you proud and give you peace of mind. But no matter what I did, it seemed I was always wrong.

Dad came into my bedroom once later that day. He let out a low sigh, his voice carrying exhaustion and a hint of suppressed guilt. "Daisy, I know you feel mistreated.

But your mother... she's under so much pressure because Lily was born premature and has weak health. She's suffering too..." He reached out, wanting to stroke my face.

His hand hovered in the air for a long time, hesitating, before he finally pulled it back.

He just pulled the blanket up, tucking me in a little tighter. "You won't feel sad once you're asleep..." He murmured, as if talking to me, or maybe just comforting himself. "When you feel better, I'll take you out for your favorite strawberry ice cream." He turned and left, his back looking slightly hunched, no longer straight and strong like it used to be.

Dad, I'm asleep now, and you're right, I don't feel sad anymore. But tomorrow's strawberry ice cream... I don't think I can make it.

Before going to bed, Mom came in to check on me one more time.

Her brow was furrowed, her face written with nothing but annoyance and resentment. "I must have owed you a debt in my past life.

You were born to torture me." "Sleeping all day and night. Even a pet would wag its tail once in a while." She walked to the bedside.

I wished so much that she would be like she was with Lily—that she would notice something was off, panic, feel my forehead, realize how dangerously hot I was, and rush me to the hospital.

But she just poked my shoulder hard through the blanket. Even through the thick cover, the force made my body shake slightly. "Daisy! Stop acting!

Get up right now!" The girl on the bed didn't move. Mom’s frown deepened, her face showing nothing but raw disgust and anger. "Still being stubborn! Fine, sleep then!

Let's see how long you can keep this up!" She slammed the door shut. The loud bang startled Lily in the living room, and she started crying.

Mom’s voice instantly switched to a sweet, gentle tone.

She carried Lily past my bedroom door, softly humming a lullaby: "Sleep, sleep, my sweet little baby, Mommy's hands are gently rocking you..." She used to hum that song to me, too.

Back before Lily was born. She used to hold me, rocking me back and forth, telling me I was her little princess, her entire world. But that was so, so long ago.

It felt like a sweet, blurry dream from a past life. The next day at noon, I still hadn't got out of bed.

As Mom was feeding Lily lunch, she said irritably to Dad, "Is that brat really sick?

She won't wake up no matter how much I call her." Dad put down his newspaper, a hint of tension on his face. "Maybe I should go check on her." Mom immediately stopped him. "Check what?!

She's definitely faking it! If you go now, you’re just giving her what she wants! She just wants us to coddle her.

No way!" They thought my silence was a protest, my sleep a tantrum. But Mom, Dad, I wasn't throwing a tantrum. I just... couldn't wake up anymore.

Today, the house felt different. Mom bought a massive, beautiful cake topped with colorful fruits and chocolates, with a "Happy Birthday" sign sticking out of it. Then I remembered.

Today was Lily’s birthday. A lot of people came over. Grandma, Grandpa, aunts, uncles, and some relatives I barely recognized.

They brought so many beautifully wrapped gifts, piling them up in the corner of the living room. All for Lily.

Nobody asked, "Where is Daisy?" Lily was wearing a brandnew princess dress with a tiny crown on her head.

She ran around the living room, receiving everyone's compliments and blessings. Everyone was laughing, calling Lily cute, smart, and beautiful.

Mom smiled so brightly her eyes narrowed into slits. It was a genuine smile, the kind I hadn't seen on her face in a very long time. I smiled too, even though they couldn't see me.

It was nice. Mom was finally happy. If my disappearance was the price for her happiness, then maybe it wasn't a completely bad thing. Grandpa suddenly remembered something.

He looked around the room and asked, "Where is Daisy?" Mom’s smile instantly froze, replaced by heavy annoyance. "Don't bring her up! She's throwing a tantrum in her room!

She hasn't eaten or got out of bed for days, just to ruin our mood!

On such a good day, don't let her come out and ruin the fun!" Grandma sighed and shook her head. "That girl is too stubborn.

Just like her father." After that, nobody mentioned me again.

When it was time to cut the cake, Lily pointed at the frosting with her creamcovered hand. "Save a piece... for Daisy!" Mom kissed Lily, her voice sickeningly sweet. "Our Lily is so kind, still thinking of her sister.

But Daisy doesn't deserve Lily’s birthday cake. Sweetheart, you eat it all yourself." Dad fell silent for a moment, then stood up. "I should still bring her a piece.

She hasn't eaten in days." Mom glared at him, her tone firm. "Don't you dare! She's doing this to protest, waiting for us to bow down to her.

If we give in today, how are we going to manage her in the future? She'll become completely uncontrollable!" Dad looked at Mom’s stubborn, angry face.

His lips trembled, but in the end, he said nothing and slowly sat back down.

The living room filled with the birthday song. "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you..." It was for Lily. The singing was so loud, so full of joy and love.

But as I listened, the sound felt so distant, so noisy. It made the empty space where my heart used to beat feel strangely heavy. See, Mom? I wasn't being bad. I wasn't protesting.

I gave you peace of mind. I will never fake being sick again, never try to steal attention, never fight with my sister, and never make you angry again.

Now, your world is filled only with Lily, and you can give her all your love. That way, you'll be happy forever, right?

Lily carried her brandnew doll into my room. "Daisy... get up... play with my doll..." She reached out her tiny hand, trying to shake me awake.

But her grip slipped, and the doll fell, rolling right under my bed. The doll's beautiful dress got covered in dust.

Lily froze, looking at her empty hands, then under the bed, and burst into tears. Mom rushed in first, fast as a gust of wind. She didn't even look at me on the bed.

She ran straight to Lily, scooping her up in her arms. "Daisy! Your sister came in here to play with you out of the goodness of her heart, and you made her cry?!

How can you be so malicious!" The way she looked at me was as if she were looking at something disgusting and hateful. "Be good, Lily, don't cry.

Mommy will get it for you." She sat Lily down safely on the side, then got flat on the floor without hesitation, reaching under the bed for the doll.

She felt the doll, but her hand also brushed against something else. Something hard and square. She pulled it out along with the doll. It was a cartoon cooling patch box. Empty.

And next to the box was a piece of paper ripped from a school notebook. On it, written in shaky, crooked pencil strokes, were the words: Mom, Dad, I'm sorry.

I won't get a fever next time. She held the note, freezing.

Slowly, for the very first time in days, she lifted her head to look at the tiny, unmoving shape under the blanket. "Dai... Daisy?"