Chapter 3
The suffocating pressure kept building.
The air in the suitcase was already thin, filled with the sharp smell of gasoline. Every breath felt like swallowing poison.
I stopped banging and yelling.
I knew it was useless.
They couldn't hear me.
Or maybe they didn't want to hear me.
In this house, it felt like my voice and even my existence had been erased a long time ago.
I could hear my dad outside, his breathing heavy and labored, as if he was dragging something.
Then I heard the splash of liquid.
The gasoline fumes grew even thicker, stinging my eyes until tears streamed down my face.
I curled up, pressing my face into Noelle's dress.
It was her pink princess dress, still carrying the faint scent of laundry detergent.
I could almost see her spinning around in front of me in that dress.
"Luciana, do I look pretty?" she asked.
She looked pretty indeed.
I thought she was the prettiest.
But I felt sorry.
However, I would be with her soon.
I felt myself smile in the darkness.
For the first time in five years, I felt relieved.
It felt like I was finally free.
I wouldn't get cold stares and cruel words from them or live in that house like an invisible person.
For a moment, death almost felt like a kind of mercy.
A match was struck.
This was the countdown,
A few seconds later, a blast of scorching heat shot up from under the suitcase.
Flames rushed upward, licking at the sides.
The fabric under me grew hotter and hotter until it burned into my skin.
Fire slipped through the cracks, catching my clothes and hair.
Agony ripped through my whole body.
I didn't scream.
I just bit down on my lip, unable to do anything as the smell of burning skin filled the tiny suitcase.
Dad, Mom, did you see this?
This was what you wanted.
I was finally dying, just as you wanted.
I was leaving your world in the harshest way possible.
This time, you'd never find me again.
The hide-and-seek game was about to be over.
My mind started to fade. The pain slowly slipped away.
It felt like my soul drifted out, floating up through the suitcase lid and into the air.
Now, I could see everything clearly.
The huge suitcase was swallowed by roaring flames.
My mom was on the ground nearby, her face in her hands, crying as if her whole world had fallen apart.
Dad was standing right next to the fire, gripping the empty gas can.
His back, lit by the flames, looked rigid and painfully lonely.
He stood there like a statue with no soul, just staring at the fire.
The firelight threw sharp shadows across his face, making it impossible to read him.
Was he here to watch me leave?
Or was he glad I was finally out of his way?
The flames grew hotter, warping the suitcase until it barely looked like a suitcase at all. Everything inside was exposed to the fire.
Noelle's dolls and books curled up in the heat before falling apart.
Then my dad suddenly stiffened.
He seemed to have noticed something.
He fixed his gaze on a corner of the fire.
I followed his gaze.
There was a burned-through hole in the suitcase.
From that hole, a piece of blackened fabric stuck out.
It was the corner of my school uniform.
My initials, LB, were still there, stitched in crooked letters by my shaky hand.
My dad's eyes widened instantly.
The numb, dead look on his face cracked apart, replaced by pure, raw terror.
He stood there, unable to move, as if lightning had hit him.
His lips shook, but nothing came out.
At last, he whispered, "W-What's that?"
My mom stopped sobbing. She followed my dad's gaze, and when her eyes landed on that charred scrap of fabric, she froze.
She looked more terrified than my dad.
"N-No way..." she stammered.
"Luciana... she..." she choked out.
As if she had thought of something, she scrambled up from the floor and ran straight toward what used to be my room.
No, it wasn't even a room.
It was the couch in the living room.
She grabbed the blanket I'd left there that morning, but she didn't see me.
Then she darted into the kitchen and then the bathroom.
"Luciana!" she screamed.
"Come out! Where are you?" she shouted.
For the first time, her voice shook with panic and desperation.
But no one answered her.
It finally hit her that the daughter she'd hated and cursed for five years was really gone.
She stumbled back over, watching the fire eat up everything, her face completely drained of color.
"No!" My mom screamed, her voice shrilling, ripping through the afternoon.
As if she'd lost her mind, she ran straight toward the flames.
"Luciana's in there!" she shrieked.