435Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMOJI4KKgAz
Scene 1: The Bathroom
The bathroom light flickered like a dying pulse. Mira’s bare feet stuck to the tiles where the blood hadn’t dried yet.
"Mom—not again!" She wrenched the razor from Evelyn’s fingers. It clattered into the sink, streaking the porcelain pink.
Evelyn blinked up at her, pupils blown wide. "Mira-bell," she slurred, wrist dripping into the bathwater. "You’re home early."
"School called. They said you missed your therapy appointment." Mira pressed a wad of toilet paper to the deepest cut. The fibers drank the blood instantly. "Why do you keep doing this?"
Evelyn’s laugh was a wet, broken thing. "You sound just like your father."
Mira froze. That name was a lit match in this house.
Evelyn tilted her head, exposing the old bruise on her neck—the one shaped like fingerprints. "He asked me the same thing the night he died."
Flashback: Five Years Earlier
"Sing for me, Mira-bell."
Seven-year-old Mira clutched Mr. Rabbit to her chest. Father’s shadow loomed over her bed, smelling of whiskey and sweat.
"I don’t know the words," she whispered.
"Liar." His calloused hand gripped her ankle. "Your mother taught you."
The door burst open. Evelyn stood framed in the hallway light, a butcher knife dangling at her side.
"Out." Her voice was colder than the winter river.
Later, Mira would remember:
The thud of Father’s body hitting the porch.
The way Evelyn hummed "Rock-a-Bye Baby" while hosing blood off her hands.
The police calling it "a drunken accident."
Scene 2: The Kitchen
Mira slammed the first-aid kit onto the counter. "You need stitches."
"No hospitals." Evelyn picked glass from her palm—Mira hadn’t even noticed she’d shattered the mirror. "They’ll take me away. Then who’ll protect you?"
"From what? He’s dead!"
Evelyn’s hand shot out, gripping Mira’s chin. "Dead men don’t stay dead in this family." Her thumb smeared blood across Mira’s lips. "You’ll see."
Mira jerked away. The taste of copper bloomed on her tongue.
Scene 3: The Lullaby
That night, Mira dreamt of the river.
Father’s bloated hands dragged her under. She woke choking, her sheets soaked with sweat.
"Shhh." Evelyn perched on the edge of the bed, stroking her hair. "Was it the water again?"
Mira flinched. "Don’t touch me."
Evelyn’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. "You used to beg for lullabies." She began to sing, off-key and haunting:435Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHIOL3U9S1i
"Hush little baby, don’t say a word..."
Mira clamped her hands over her ears. "Stop it!"
Evelyn leaned closer. "Momma’s gonna buy you a mockingbird." Her breath reeked of antiseptic and lies. "And if that mockingbird don’t sing..."
Mira shoved her. Evelyn’s head cracked against the nightstand.
For one terrifying second, neither of them breathed.
Then Evelyn laughed, dabbing at the blood in her hairline. "Now we match."
Scene 4: The Razor’s Edge
3 AM. The house creaked like a living thing.
Mira stood before the bathroom mirror, her mother’s razor in hand. The blade caught the moonlight.
"Do it," whispered the ghost in the glass. Was it her reflection? Evelyn’s?
She pressed the edge to her wrist.
A floorboard groaned behind her.
"Mira-bell?" Evelyn’s voice slithered under the door. "Don’t start without me."
The razor clattered into the sink.
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