Love by Lottery

In the end, Mom still made the dishes Asher liked.

The three of them sat together, talking and laughing. They looked happy and harmonious, like a family.

I felt a little lonely, so I drifted closer to Mom.

That was when I noticed a cake sitting on the chair beside her.

I smugly showed it off to the stray cat crouched by the window. "See that? Mom and Dad bought me a cake. They didn’t forget that today is my birthday."

The stray cat glanced at me, as if mocking me.

Mom handed the cake to Asher, saying she had bought it especially because he wanted to eat it. As if afraid I might hear, she even lowered her voice, "Take it to the bedroom and eat it secretly. Otherwise, if Silas finds out, he’ll cry to me again."

I had only cried that one time, yet Mom repeated that line for ten whole years. Actually, I wasn’t that sad because I knew that even if we drew lots, I would only ever draw the short stick. I had terrible luck. The cake would still go to Asher.

"I’ve never eaten cake before," I said to the stray cat. "Have you?"

Suddenly, it leaped inside, swiped a paw, knocked the cake out of Asher’s hands, and bolted away.

Asher’s hand ended up with a scratch. He burst into tears.

Mom lashed out in anger, grabbing a vase and smashing it hard against my bedroom door.

"Silas! Did you do this on purpose to hurt Asher? If you’re at home, why didn’t you close the window?"

When I still didn’t come out and open the door, Mom completely lost her temper. She was about to keep going when Dad grabbed her.

"That’s enough. Stop worrying about him. Take Asher to the hospital first. We’ll deal with him when we get back."

By the time they returned, it was already past midnight.

Mom and Dad knocked on my door together. When there was still no movement inside, they finally lost all patience.

Dad went to get a hammer, preparing to break the door down.

In the end, the neighbors complained, and they stopped after yelling a few insults from outside.

Mom bought Asher a new pair of sneakers. He spun around, showing them off.

"I cried when I got my shot. Mom felt bad for me, so she took me to buy new sneakers and have steak. You’ve never eaten steak, right? Well, that’s because you have such bad luck.

"If you had drawn the long stick, Mom would’ve taken you to eat steak and buy you new sneakers, too."

My blood seeped out through the crack under the door. Asher stepped on it and slipped, falling to the ground. He wailed loudly, drawing Mom and Dad over immediately.

"What’s going on? Where did all this blood come from?" Dad stared at the crack under the door, shocked and panicked.

"It looks like it’s coming from Silas’s room. Silas…"

His suspicion was cut off by Asher’s crying.

"I just wanted to show Silas my new sneakers. He told me to get lost. That’s my blood. My head hurts so much."

Mom exploded. She kicked the door furiously.

"Silas, come out right now! You made Asher bleed this much and you still dare to hide in there!"

This time, Mom really wanted to break the door open. Each kick was harder than the last.

I was repeatedly struck by the door until my body was mangled beyond recognition. I wondered, if they saw me like this, would they be afraid?

Nevertheless, the door still didn’t break.

Mom had no choice but to go bandage Asher first. As she left, she cursed me under her breath.

That wasn’t the first time Asher had framed me. Ever since we were little, whenever he made a mistake, he would cry first and say it was my fault.

Mom was very fair.

Every time, she would say that regardless of who was right or wrong, we would draw lots first.

Whoever drew the short stick would be punished, and every single time, I was the one who got beaten.

If I were still alive, what would the punishment be this time? Locked in the attic with no food or water? Or made to stand outside in the rain all night?

I drifted downstairs.

Then I noticed something. Tears burst out of my eyes.

At last, I understood why, for ten years, I had never once drawn the long stick.