My life and death seemed totally irrelevant compared to the big deal that was Abigail’s daughter’s first birthday party. To them, my existence was just a nuisance. The idea that my death might mess up Abigail’s big day was so disheartening. My mother wasn’t even interested in checking if the body was really mine, just brushing it off because it might bring bad luck. It showed how little my life meant to them.
But they got one thing wrong. I had been in a family photo with them. They’d clearly forgotten about it, probably because it was a day they’d rather not remember. That day was filled with shame for them and they’d erased it from their memories.
A year after my return to the Clarks’ family, they finally decided it was time to take a family photo. The Clark’s mansion, located right in the heart of the city, had a spacious, sunlit living room where the large photo hung prominently. I'd heard from the village kids that a family photo was like a family’s credentials—it showed that no one was left out and everyone had a place. For two years, I gazed enviously at that family photo on the wall, wishing and hoping that one day I would have a spot in it.
Then, one day, I finally got the chance. It was a day I had been waiting for and I made sure to wear the only flowery dress I had, the one that had been tucked away in the back of my closet. It was a bit faded and worn, but it felt special.
No one knew how much this photo meant to me, how much I had dreamed of being part of it. As the photographer adjusted the lights and positioned the camera, I did my best to keep a bright, radiant smile on my face. Even as I started to feel a tingling numbness in my cheeks from the effort of holding the smile, I forced myself to keep it up.
While the photographer was adjusting the background and setting up the camera and my family waited in the lounge, I headed to the restroom to tidy up my appearance. When I came out, I bumped into a long-haired man. I stumbled for a moment and looked at the person who had run into me. He seemed to be one of the photographers here. Thinking it was just an accident on both our parts, I smiled and apologized. However, he grinned as he stared at me. His eyes roamed over me in a very disturbing way and worst of all, the man had an awful body odor.
“That's a nice smile,” he said, taking a step closer to me.