I Was the Bait for My Brother

My mom often makes an example out of someone when it comes to parenting.

Unfortunately, I'm that someone, while my little brother, Raymond Nelson, benefits from it.

Ever since I was four years old, my mom had been using this method.

If Raymond breaks a bowl, I'm the one kneeling on the floor to pick up the pieces.

If Raymond destroys something belonging to someone else, I'm the one writing the reflection report on his behalf.

Mom tells me, "You're the older sister here. Since you can't keep your brother in line, you're the one at fault."

But Raymond can never get rid of his bad habit of stealing and lying.

When Franklin Harris, the owner of a grocery store, comes knocking on our door, Raymond points at me once again.

"She was the one who stole your money!"

In order to help Raymond get rid of this problematic habit of his, Mom decides to hand me over to the owner.

"Sorry, Franklin. It's my fault for not raising my child well. I'll give my daughter to you. You can do whatever you want to her, be it scolding her or beating her up."

Little does she know that I will never go home after Mr. Harris takes me away.

Mom pulled Franklin Harris, the owner of the neighborhood grocery store, to the side and whispered something to him before shoving a handful of cash into his palm. Hesitation flickered across Mr. Harris' face, but he eventually nodded.

"Mom?" I called out to her softly, but she didn't look at me.

Mr. Harris' greasy, oversized hands lifted me up easily, as if I were a little chick. He bellowed at my terrified brother, Raymond, "See this? This is the price you pay for stealing money and lying!"

Confusion washed over me. Hadn't Mom already paid him back?

"Mom!" I screamed.

Raymond rushed over and gripped my hand with everything he had. "I won't steal anymore! I swear! Put my sister down!" he wailed.

Mr. Harris let out a cold laugh and hoisted me onto his shoulder, marching toward the exit. "Too late! Why didn't you think about your sister when you were busy stealing and lying?"

Raymond ran to Mom, dropped to his knees, and wrapped his arms around her legs. "Mom, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! Don't let him take Emilia away! I'm begging you!“

His heart-wrenching sobs filled the air as he pleaded frantically. Mom looked down at him, and to my horror, a satisfied smile spread across her lips. "Remember, you lost your sister because of your mistake."

"Lock her up somewhere far away," she told Mr. Harris. "Make sure her brother can't find her."

I panicked completely. "Mom!"

At that moment, I finally realized that she wasn't joking. She truly didn't want me anymore.

I was shoved into a battered van with a rag stuffed in my mouth, and my limbs were bound. The vehicle drove on for hours. By the time it finally stopped at a village I had never visited, the sun had dipped low, and the sky had grown dim. When the warehouse doors swung open, a musty odor rushed out at me.

Mr. Harris pointed to a few boxes in the corner. "There's water if you're thirsty and bread if you're hungry. Stay put, and your mom will come for you in two days."

The iron door slammed shut with a heavy thud. I heard him talking on the phone outside the door. "Don't worry… she's far away… no one will find her… We'll settle the payment later…"

The warehouse sat in total darkness, save for a high ventilation window that let in a sliver of faint moonlight. I waited for a long time, but neither Mom nor Dad showed up.

Had they actually abandoned me? The thought stung like a needle piercing my heart.

No, that couldn't be right. Mom had said that it was just an act to scare Raymond. I repeated the words to myself over and over like a mantra.

However, as the sky grew darker, strange noises began to echo through the warehouse. There was a rustling sound—like rats, or maybe something else. Terror seized me, and my desire to go home grew stronger.

I started stacking the boxes one by one. I wobbled as I climbed on top and stood on my tiptoes to reach the window. Once my fingertips finally brushed the icy frame, I pushed it open with every ounce of my strength.

With a sudden crash, the boxes beneath me collapsed. The world spun as the back of my head hit the concrete floor with a dull thud. Strangely, I felt no pain.

…

When I scrambled up, my surroundings seemed different. Despite the lack of light, I could clearly see the boxes scattered across the floor and even the dust motes dancing in the air.

I wanted to restack the boxes, but as I reached for one, my hand passed right through it. I was stunned, then tried again. My fingers glided through the cardboard without any resistance, as if moving through a cloud of mist.