A Farewell Gift of Death

I died on my birthday, but neither my parents nor my husband noticed. They were too busy pouring all their attention into planning my twin sister, Esme Shaw's, birthday party.

While she was surrounded by people helping her pick out a gown, I was tied up and thrown into the basement.

With what little strength I had left, I forced my broken fingers to press in the code—9395. It was a signal my husband, Edwin Grant, and I had once agreed on. It was a straightforward way to call for help in the event of danger.

I never thought I would actually need it one day.

But when I sent it, he didn't believe me. His reply was cold, "Claudia, just because I didn't take you shopping for a new dress, you've decided to put on a show?

"You can still wear last year's gown. Stop making trouble. I'll see you at the party later."

What he didn't know was that Esme had already shredded that gown into pieces. And what he couldn't imagine was that the moment after he hung up, I was already gone.

So, when the celebration began, I never appeared. But when everyone saw the birthday gift I had prepared for Esme ahead of time, the entire room lost its mind.

I died a painful death on my own birthday, and no one in my family even realized it. They blamed me for missing Esme's big birthday celebration, not realizing I was there the whole time—just not in the way they'd thought. I was there as nothing more than a soul.

...

That evening, my family came home with their arms full of shopping bags. Everyone carried something except Esme, who happily licked an ice cream cone.

She was their little princess and was spoiled to the point where they wouldn't let her lift a finger.

They started decorating the house, and Edwin called out to me. I was upstairs. "Claudia, come down and help. Just because it's your birthday doesn't mean you get to slack off."

On any other day, I would have hurried down to join him. But now, I only hovered beside him, watching with a cold, detached gaze.

When I didn't answer, he dialed my phone—only to find that no one answered.

Just then, Esme strolled over, snatched the phone from his hand, and cooed sweetly, "Edwin, since Claudia isn't here, let me help you instead."

Edwin chuckled, ruffled her hair, and said gently, "Go sit down and rest. If you don't finish that ice cream soon, it's going to melt."

The moment she walked off, his smile vanished. He frowned and left me a voicemail. "Claudia, get back here now! The party starts in an hour. We've got a lot of guests coming today, so don't ruin the mood."

With that, he went back to decorating.

Mom and Dad noticed his frustration and sneered. "Is Claudia throwing another tantrum?"

Edwin sighed heavily as he tied up some balloons. "Yeah. The second something doesn't go her way, she disappears. She always waits for people to beg her to come back."

"Hmph! She's just spoiled," Dad grumbled. "Does she really think this party can't go on without her? How naive. The real star of this banquet is Esme. Whether Claudia shows up or not makes no difference. When she returns tomorrow, give her some leftover cake. That'll teach her a lesson."

His voice grew sharper the more he spoke.

Esme rushed over, patting his back to soothe him. "Dad, don't say that. If Claudia hears you, she'll be so hurt. It's her birthday today as well. How could we celebrate without her? I'll go look for her."

With that, she turned and left.

The whole family praised her for being so sweet and sensible, never realizing she had never even left the house.

I watched as she slipped into the basement instead. With one hard kick, she flung open the iron door. When she spotted me lying motionless in the corner, covered in blood, she laughed so hard she could barely breathe.

Striding over, she kicked me twice. "Hey, stop pretending to be dead. Get up."

But I didn't respond at all because I had already died.

She didn't notice it. She crouched and yanked my hair, but my eyes remained shut. When she finally sensed something was wrong, a sound from outside caught her attention. "Why isn't the garden gate closed?"

Startled, she let go of me and landed one last kick before leaving. "Stay put. Don't you dare try to crash my party and steal the spotlight."

Then, with a sweet smile, she ran upstairs and threw herself into Edwin's arms. "It was my fault, Edwin. I forgot to close the gate. I went searching everywhere, but I couldn't find Claudia."

Edwin's heart melted instantly. He stroked her head. "Forget about her. Today is your day. Don't waste it worrying about someone worthless."

"Someone worthless?" I thought. A bitter smile tugged at my lips.

It wasn't that I was worthless—it was that in their eyes, only Esme mattered. Although we shared the same birthday, mine was often overlooked. Year after year, I celebrated alone.

However, this year was different. This year wasn't just my birthday. It was my farewell.

A month ago, I was diagnosed with terminal cancer. I never planned to hide it. The test results sat plainly on the table.

But I would never forget the way my parents had sneered at the test results. They accused me of putting on an act and playing the victim just to win sympathy and force their attention.

The truth was, I'd never wanted to compete with Esme for their love. I never even planned on attending the party.

I had already prepared a gift for Esme in advance, and I'd intended to spend my last birthday quietly with a friend. But before I could leave, a group of men in black ambushed me. A heavy blow to the head had knocked me out cold.

When I came to, I was in our basement.

Their leader dangled a keychain in front of me—the one with Esme's favorite Winny Bear charm, and the other men clutched batons and baseball bats.

My legs trembled as I begged them to let me go. But they ignored me. They beat me over and over until I was barely conscious.

After that, they tore my clothes apart and snapped photos of me naked. Once they were done, they jingled the keys in their hands and walked away.

I lunged forward out of desperation and managed only to tear off the Winny Bear charm.

Darkness closed in after that.

With what little strength I had, I tried calling my parents and then Edwin, but none of them answered.

I resorted to a message, but my broken fingers couldn't manage a long text. So, I typed four digits—9395.

It was the emergency code Edwin and I had once agreed on. He had whispered to me once while stroking my hair, "If you're ever in danger, send me this number. I'll come for you no matter what."

Back then, I had laughed. "It's not like I'll ever be in danger. This is a civilized country."

I'd never thought I would actually need it.

But when I sent it, praying he would understand, his reply left me stunned. "Claudia, just because I didn't take you shopping for a new dress, you've decided to put on a show?"

He didn't believe me. "You can still wear last year's gown. Stop acting like a child. Since it's your birthday, I'll let it go. See you at the party tonight."

Too bad—I wouldn't be showing up at that party. And in this lifetime, we'd never see each other again.

Once my phone went dead, the only thing left for them was my maggot-ridden body and the farewell gift I had so carefully prepared.