Dead for Two Dollars My Uncle’s Secret Cruelty

"What do you want to eat tonight? Fried chicken or something Western?" My uncle scooped Lily into his arms as he spoke, and he and Aunt Melissa walked out of the room without a backward glance. Through the haze, I thought I saw Mom. Mom, please take me with you. I don't want to stay at Uncle's house. I don't care how hard things are, as long as I can be with you. Those were the words I'd said to her two years ago, when she came home for the New Year. She had stroked my forehead gently. "Be a good girl, Blanche. Mommy's working in Eastford State. I'm still sharing a dorm with my coworkers—there's really no other way right now." "Besides, you have school. I can't find you a good school over there." "Just be good and stay with your uncle. Listen to what he says. Once Mommy gets a raise, I promise I'll come back for you." I had kept my head down, watching my tears splatter against the floor in heavy drops. After Dad died, Mom had shouldered the burden of raising me all on her own. I knew how hard she worked. So I never dared to ask for anything more. But Mom... I really, really miss you. When I woke again, it was already dark. I was startled to find that all the pain in my body had vanished. Then I turned—and saw myself lying motionless on the floor, the phone watch still clutched in my hand. In that moment, I understood. I was dead. I crouched down beside my own body. My eyes were still open, empty and staring. A pool of dark red had spread beneath my lips, seeping into the floorboards. Even I found the sight terrifying. Through the fog in my mind, I remembered the last phone call I'd made to Mom. Her answer. "Okay." I didn't have time to mourn my own death. I rushed to the front door. Mom said she would come. I had to wait for her here. I waited at the door for what felt like forever. But the first figures I saw were my uncle and his family. Lily was nestled happily in his arms. "Daddy, that burger was so yummy! Can we go again next time?" His face was soft with affection. "Of course, of course. Whenever my little princess wants to go, we'll go." I didn't want to pay them any attention. All I wanted was to wait for Mom. But I realized that ever since they came home, my body had been following them against my will—as if I were tethered to them. The moment they stepped through the door, Aunt Melissa smiled and took Lily from him. "Alright, little piggy, it's late. Mommy's going to give you a bath." "We'll get our precious girl all nice and clean." Watching the adoration on her face, my tears fell before I could stop them—heavy, uncontrollable. Even though Mom sent money for my living expenses, to them, I had always been nothing but a burden. My uncle and aunt weren't kind people. They beat me, screamed at me—that was just how it was. But every ounce of love they had, they poured into Lily. I was so jealous. So, so jealous. I quietly wiped the tears from my face. So even the dead can cry. Aunt Melissa carried Lily into the bathroom and spotted the dirty clothes still sitting in the wash basin. The warmth on her face vanished instantly. "That little brat. She really thinks she's something now." She set Lily down, then turned toward the storage room and screamed. "Blanche! You think you can throw a tantrum now? Your uncle only hit you a few times! Is that really such a big deal?" "Nine years old with an attitude like this—what's going to become of you?" "I tell you to wash a few clothes and you leave them sitting here? What, do I owe you something?" My uncle had just sat down on the couch and was about to light a cigarette. Hearing the shouting, he immediately stood and walked toward the bathroom.

Seeing her husband approach, Melissa snatched the dirty clothes from the basin and hurled them to the floor, one piece at a time. "There! Look at this—your precious little niece!" "She steals money from us, you give her a few smacks, and suddenly she's too good to do her chores? Leaving these filthy clothes here for who to deal with?" "I'm telling you right now—get rid of her. Ship her off somewhere. If she corrupts our daughter, don't come crying to me!" Raymond's gaze locked onto the heap of soiled laundry. His eyes darkened until they seemed to swallow the light. Without a word, he turned and strode toward the storage room. His foot connected with the door, sending it crashing inward. "Blanche! You must have a death wish—" His voice died the instant he saw my body. "What... what is this?" A tremor crept into his words, barely perceptible. He crouched down beside my corpse. His hand hovered in the air above me, wanting to touch, not daring to. I stood nearby, watching the color drain from his face. You beat me to death, Uncle. Why are you the one who's afraid? When no sounds came from the storage room, Melissa's patience frayed. "Raymond, what are you doing in there? Can't even handle a little girl anymore?" "Is she asleep? Wake her up. These clothes aren't going to wash themselves." "If she thinks she can skip her chores, I'll show her—" She marched toward the storage room as she spoke. Raymond remained crouched beside my body, blocking her view. "Why are you just squatting there? Move. Tell Blanche to get the laundry done." He turned his head slowly. Terror was written across every feature. "She's... she's dead." Melissa's irritation peaked. She stepped forward to shove him aside. "Dead? Have you lost your mind? What nonsense are you—" Her movement froze the moment she saw me. They stared at each other, reading the same fear reflected back. After what felt like an eternity, Melissa forced the words out. "What... what happened?" Raymond's legs gave out. He collapsed onto the floor, hands clawing at his hair in despair. "How should I know? You're asking me?" "It's not like this was the first time I hit her. How was I supposed to know she'd actually die?" "Goddamn rotten luck. This jinx—steals my money, and now she's dead just to spite me." Something snapped Melissa back to reality. She dropped to her knees and beat her fists against his shoulders, tears streaming down her face. "How could you? Don't you know when to stop?" "The child is dead now—what do we do? When her mother finds out, she'll tear us apart!" Raymond's grip on his hair tightened. "How the hell should I know what to do? You're the one who told me to teach her a lesson!" "Now you want to ask what we do? Where were you when it mattered? Why didn't you stop me then?" In the bathroom, Lily had been waiting. When her mother didn't return, she wandered out to the living room and headed toward the storage room. "Daddy? Mommy? What are you talking about?" "Weren't you going to give me my bath?" At the sound of their daughter's voice, Raymond and Melissa exchanged a glance. They composed themselves instantly and stepped out of the storage room. To keep Lily from seeing my mangled body, Raymond pulled the door shut behind him. Melissa hurried to rearrange her expression, forcing a thin smile onto her face.

"Sweetheart, it's a bit chilly tonight—let's skip your bath, okay? Mommy will tuck you in right now." Melissa took Lily's hand and led her toward the bedroom. Just then, something tumbled from Lily's coat pocket—a flower-shaped hair clip. Melissa frowned, bending to pick it up. "Where did this come from? I've never seen it before. Does it belong to one of your classmates?" Lily shrugged, unconcerned. "I bought it today when I went to get steamed buns with that jinx. I thought it was pretty." "It cost two dollars." Melissa froze. For a long moment, she didn't move. Then, slowly, her gaze lifted to meet her husband's. She opened her mouth to speak, but he shot her a sharp look—not in front of the child—and she swallowed the words. Perhaps worn out from the day's outing, Lily fell asleep quickly. Melissa eased the bedroom door shut with painstaking care, then returned to the living room. "What do we do now?" Her voice was a strained whisper. "If your sister finds out we not only blamed that wretched girl for something she didn't do but beat her—this won't end well for us." Her husband exhaled a thick ring of smoke. The haze in his eyes slowly sharpened into something calculating. "I'll figure it out. First, we deal with the body in that room." Melissa nodded. They had just turned toward the storage room when his phone rang. "Hey, I'll be at your place in about half an hour." Claudia Sparks's voice came through the speaker. "Is Blanche asleep yet?" The color drained from his face. His hands began to tremble. When he didn't respond, Claudia's tone shifted to concern. "Hello? Can you hear me?" He forced himself to steady. When he spoke, his voice was almost normal—almost. "Why are you coming now? It's so late." He cleared his throat. "Blanche is already asleep. Why don't you find a hotel for tonight and come by tomorrow instead?" "It's the weekend—you'll have plenty of time to spend with her then." On the other end, Claudia sounded relieved. "Oh, she's asleep? That's fine, I'll just come over and sleep next to her. It's too late to bother checking into a hotel anyway." "I've been on the train all afternoon. I'm exhausted." Melissa's eyes went wide. She gestured frantically at her husband. He coughed. "Actually—we're not home. Since the kids don't have school tomorrow, we decided to take them out for a little trip today." "There's no one at the house right now. Just come tomorrow." "Don't worry, we'll be back first thing in the morning." Claudia started to protest, but he cut her off, his voice tight with barely concealed urgency. "Look, I don't want to wake the kids. Let's just leave it at that, okay?" He hung up before she could respond. A long breath escaped him. Melissa's face twisted with resentment. She glared toward the storage room. "Your sister has the worst timing. Why did she have to come back today of all days?" Her expression crumbled into panic. "What are we going to do? We're going to prison. Our daughter is so young—what's going to happen to her?" Tears spilled down her cheeks. "I must have been cursed in a past life to marry you. You're going to be the death of me!" "You're a grown man—how could you not control yourself? How could you hit her hard enough to kill her?" Her husband's jaw clenched so tight the muscles twitched. His eyes were dark, bloodshot. "We never should have agreed to keep that jinx here. Not for a measly three thousand a month." Melissa's voice turned bitter. "Wasn't it your idea? You wanted a free maid."

"Goddammit, now she's gone and died in my house. What rotten luck." Aunt Melissa wiped away a tear. "Your house? We're about to lose our freedom—maybe our lives—and you're worried about your house?" Uncle Derek shot her a withering look. But when he saw her tears, his tone softened. "Fine, enough. Crying won't help. Her mother's back in town. We need to figure this out, now." "First, we get the body out. It's the middle of the night—I'll dump her somewhere outside the city." Melissa knew this wasn't the time for tears. She scrubbed her face dry and nodded frantically. They yanked open the storage room door and scrambled to lift me out. I watched my small body twisted into unnatural angles in their grip, and felt a dull, wooden ache where my heart used to be. Even now, I still remember everything. After Dad died, Mom spent every day holding me, her face perpetually wet with tears. The seventh day after his death—his spirit barely departed—Grandpa Harold Fletcher and Grandma Margaret Fletcher showed up at our door with Uncle Victor Fletcher in tow. "You jinx! You cursed my son to death!" Grandma Margaret shrieked. "Take your money-losing daughter and get out of my son's house! You killed him—what right do you have to stay here?" Mom clutched little me to her chest and knelt before them, kowtowing over and over until her forehead was raw. "Please, Mom, I'm begging you—Blanche is so young. If you throw us out, how are we supposed to survive?" "Please, have mercy on Blanche. She's your flesh and blood too—a Fletcher, through and through." They wouldn't even look at me. "Get out! Fletcher blood? A girl who can't carry on the family name? We don't want her!" Mom had no education. She couldn't find decent work locally. Before long, an old friend told her there were jobs in Eastford State. Hard labor, yes—but if you were willing to work overtime, the pay wasn't bad. Mom was torn. She couldn't bear to leave me, but without money, she couldn't keep me alive. She gritted her teeth and made a deal: three thousand dollars a month to my uncle and aunt, and they'd take me in. The day she left, I cried until my voice gave out, begging her not to abandon me. She just stroked my hair, eyes red-rimmed. "Be good, Blanche. Listen to your uncle. When Mommy earns enough money, I'll come back for you." "And then we'll never be apart again." But Mom... will I still be here when you come back? Just then, the electronic lock beeped. And then—Mom's voice. "Huh, they still haven't changed the code after all this time." "Wait—why are the lights on? Derek? Melissa? You're home?" "What are you two moving around in the middle of the night?"