I watched as my father stiffened, his movements robotic as he approached the storage closet. His gaze fell inside, landing on my corpse.
I must admit, I was curious to see his reaction. Would it shock him? Would he finally feel remorse?
Instead, he roared, “Jennifer Stiles! What the heck is this?! Get out here right now, or I’ll lock you in that closet forever!”
Tsk. I clicked my tongue beside him, my spectral form floating nearby.
‘You should’ve come while I was still alive if you wanted to see me.
‘I wanted to come out too, you know. Look at my hands. I was banging on that door until my dying breath. My fingers are all broken.
‘Surely, my death must bring you satisfaction, hmm?
‘You killed me.’
My father, oblivious to my voice, leaned into the closet for a better look. That’s when he truly saw it—what was left of my rat-eaten corpse lying in the middle of the storage room, surrounded by scurrying vermin.
“Ah!” he gasped, stumbling back.
The sudden noise startled the rats, sending them scampering. A few even leaped onto him, climbing up his body.
He shrieked in shock, frantically swatting and shaking them off.
The absurdity of the scene made me laugh aloud.
It was rare to see him in such a humiliating state. If only I could record this moment on video. It would’ve made for a masterpiece.
