I Let You Hit Me So You Wouldn't Cry When I Was Gone

Lily, 8 years old. Incurable. Dad sells blood for her meds. Mom, pregnant with twins, skips new shirts—barely enough for two kids. So Lily turns “bad.” Flushes medicine. Steals Mom’s food. Burns awards. Screams for a game console. Dad hits her, orders her out, stops looking. Good. When she dies, they won’t grieve. Dad, Mom—I was never bad. I just made you hate me, so you could love me to the end without the pain.