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Piecing Me Together Again

Three days into the afterlife, a young ghost faces a second death by starvation. A sympathetic underworld messenger explains that spirits bound by resentment must remain beside those who loved them most, nourishing themselves on the living's guilt. However, for the protagonist of Piecing Me Together Again, this revelation brings only despair. Convinced their mother harbored nothing but hatred for them, the child prepares to fade away rather than seek a mercy that doesn't exist.
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Chapter 3

Mom started feeling uneasy. She hurriedly tidied up the room. Then, she hopped onto her e-bike and headed straight for Dad's house.

On the way, she kept mumbling something about me getting into trouble if she got her hands on me. She also called me heartless.

I followed her and watched her get a locksmith to unlock the door. Once she got inside the house, she shouted for me to show myself.

Then, she ran to a small room furthest away from the door. After my parents divorced, Dad once promised to keep that room as mine.

However, it was now a storeroom. Gardening tools and discarded toys were strewn across the floor.

Mom choked and coughed at the dust covering the room. She was stunned. She knew this was supposed to be my room.

Her face contorted with anger as she rushed out, wanting to question Dad about this.

Just then, familiar voices came from outside the house. It was Grandma and Dad.

They must've received the police's call.

Grandma said with assurance, "It's fine. It's evidently that wretch's idea. She only birthed a daughter, yet she fought back against me because of that child. Now that you're rich, she's trying to get our attention by using her daughter."

Dad hung his head. Stuttering, Dad retorted, "But it seems Maria has been mistreating Xenia."

Grandma burst out laughing. Her eyes glinted wickedly.

"Of course she would! It's thanks to me. I painstakingly taught Xenia to express her dissatisfaction with her mother. I even spent hours teaching her to say those wretched words. Otherwise, if Xenia and Maria got along well, how would you get Xenia to take care of you when you get older?"

Mom stood rooted to the spot, taken aback.

When she came to her senses, she'd already darted out and grabbed Grandma's neck. "So it's you, you old hag! I wondered how Xenia learned to say something like that at such a young age."

They tugged at and scolded each other until Dad separated them.

Mom plopped on the floor, staring blankly ahead. After some time, she asked, "Is Xenia really not here?"

Grandma huffed, "That little beggar will never get to step inside my house as long as I'm alive!"

Mom remembered that one night many years back. She mumbled, "Then… where did my Xenia go that winter…"

No one could answer her.

After she left Dad's house, she called Mrs. Turner with trembling hands.

Her voice quivering, she told Mrs. Turner about it. "Where do you think she will go at this hour?"

Mrs. Turner consoled her, saying, "Xenia's smart. She's probably sulking and is at her friend's house now."

Her words seemed to reassure Mom, and she regained composure. "Yes, that must be it. She wants me to give in first."

Suddenly, I felt a surge of energy in my body, formed by the guilty feelings of the person I loved the most.

I carefully experienced it. It wasn't much, but it gave me sufficient energy to continue following Mom.

I watched her enter an accessories shop. Rubbing her hands together, she bought an adorable doll.

A loving expression crossed her face. "I'll give Xenia this doll when she returns."

I reached out and gently touched it. It was soft. It was my first time seeing such a beautiful doll.

I watched Mom suppress her uneasiness and go to work. She changed into her uniform and entered the funeral parlor.

On the table lay my body, covered with a white cloth.

Mom flipped open the cover at my legs first. Because of being trampled over, my legs were out of shape. My knees were dislocated.

Someone gagged, but Mom was very calm. She was capable in her work and could work for long hours.

Taking out a wet cloth, she carefully wiped me down. It also took her much effort to realign my bones.

Next was my trunk. There was a huge hole in it where my intestines were blocking.

Mom put on her gloves and started stuffing my intestines back inside. Then, she sewed the hole, exclaiming, "How thin. She's clearly not been eating well."

I touched my stomach. Indeed, I hadn't been eating well. To save money for Mom's birthday present, I ate only one meal a day and drank water to satisfy my hunger. Naturally, I lost weight.

After restoring my body, she came to my face, which was the hardest part of all.

"I heard her face is in horrible condition. I guess we'll take a long time restoring it," said an intern with round eyes.

Mom glared at her. Shutting her eyes, she prayed.

She said, "Even so, we have to do it. How else could the family bring themselves to look at their child?"

The intern refuted softly, "No one has come to claim the body. I heard the police phoned the family this morning but they didn't show up."

Mom fell silent. After the ritual, everyone bowed respectfully.

Taking a deep breath, Mom drew back the white cloth covering my face.