The Invisible Bloodbag's Revenge

As far back as I can remember, I lived naked. An invisible freak. I always thought it was an accident.

A stupid childhood mistake where I swallowed my mother’s experimental invisibility serum. Until the day Arabella got accepted into grad school.

I rushed over to her room, bursting with excitement to celebrate. Instead, her voice drifted through the cracked door. "Thanks, Mom.

If you hadn't forced Sloane to drink that serum so I could leech her nutrients, I wouldn't be alive today." My stomach plummeted. A cold sweat broke out across my skin. No accident.

No mistake. My own mother drugged me from childhood. She turned me into a living bloodbag—an invisible monster built just to keep her sick daughter alive.

Chapter 1 "How does she even have the nerve to give me this garbage?" Arabella tossed the greeting card onto the hardwood floor.

The impact triggered the cheap music chip, and a mocking, tinny melody filled the room. Arabella's heel came down. Hard.

She crushed my handmade card into jagged pieces. "Mom, can you tell Sloane to stop making this useless trash?

It's so annoying." Arabella kicked the torn scraps. "She never stops writing me notes. I just pretend I don't see them and toss them in the trash, but she keeps making more.

It's driving me crazy!" Rosalind stroked Arabella’s hair, her eyes melting with pure adoration. "I know, honey. I’ll talk to her.

If I knew she'd be this talkative, I wouldn't have taught her to read. Then she couldn't bother my beautiful girl." My chest tightened. Every breath felt like inhaling broken glass.

Because I was cursed with this invisibility, my own mother and sister looked right through me. They couldn't hear me, either. Pen and paper—they were my only voice.

I always convinced myself Arabella just overlooked my notes. Now I knew the truth. She despised them.

I threw myself onto the floor, hovering over the shredded remains of the musical card to protect them.

I had bought that with the loose change I had saved up from doing extra chores around the house. I had drawn that little kitten on the front, stroke by stroke.

Seeing it torn to shreds felt like a physical blow to my ribs. Arabella stomped down again, but her heel caught my lower back, sending her crashing to the floor.

A sharp sting shot up my spine. I winced, biting my lip to hold back a gasp. Rosalind darted forward immediately, pulling Arabella up with frantic concern.

Arabella grabbed a heavy throw pillow from the sofa and hurled it at the floor. It landed squarely on my back, tracing the invisible curve of my body.

She pointed right at me, her face twisting with rage. "When did you sneak in here?! Who told you to lay on the floor like a creep?

Are you asking for a death wish?!" She didn't wait for an answer. She lashed out, kicking me in the ribs again and again. Rosalind stood right there. She watched the entire thing.

She didn't say a single word to stop it. When Arabella finally stepped back, panting, Rosalind handed her a glass of water. "There you go, baby. Deep breaths.

Don't be mad." Rosalind didn't care if my ribs were bruised. She just reached down and yanked the throw pillow off my back. "What is wrong with you?

Why are you just lying there in the way? You made your sister fall." I stared at my red, stinging skin. The sobbing ripped out of my throat, louder this time.

Hot drops of water hit the floorboards one by one. Rosalind scowled. "Stop crying.

I say one word to you and the waterworks start?" She waved her hand dismissively. "Clean this mess up right now. Reese and the rest of your sister's friends are coming over soon.

Do not ruin her mood." I pushed myself up off the floor. Every muscle in my back screamed in protest. I clamped both hands over my mouth, forcing myself not to cry out.

Mom said she hated it when I cried. I couldn't let Mom hate me. Chapter 2 I watched Arabella laugh with Reese and the others.

She wore a stunning new dress, effortlessly holding the center of attention. I curled into a tight ball in the corner of the room. A heavy ache formed in the back of my throat.

I wanted to go to school. I wanted friends. But my reality was this empty, unseen existence. Reese picked up a framed family portrait from the mantel.

She squinted at it. "Didn't you say you were an only child? Who's the baby with you and your mom?" That picture was taken when I was exactly one year old.

It was the only proof I ever existed. Right before I faded into total invisibility. Arabella snatched the frame back with a bright, easy smile. "Oh, that's just a distant cousin.

Not a sister. It's just me." My lungs seized. Hot tears blurred my vision before dripping onto the floorboards. Rosalind caught the faint splash of water hitting the wood.

Keeping her face perfectly composed so the guests wouldn't notice, she grabbed my invisible arm, her fingernails digging deep into my skin, and dragged me into the study.

She slammed the door shut. "What is wrong with you? I told you to stay out of the way!" "Why are you constantly leaking everywhere? Are you trying to ruin this for us?

Do you want Arabella's friends to think we harbor a freak?!" I shook my head frantically. The collar of my shirt grew damp. Rosalind’s scowl deepened. "Stop crying!

You're going to stain the clothes, and I'll be the one stuck washing them!" I fumbled for my notepad. My hands trembled as I hastily scribbled out an apology.

Rosalind snatched the paper and ripped it into jagged shreds. "Stay in here and think about what you did!

Don't even think about coming out until you learn how to act normal!" Rosalind pointed a sharp finger at the air where my face was. "If you make a single sound and scare those girls, I will throw you out into the street!" She stepped out, and the heavy door slammed shut, sealing me in.

A loud, metallic click echoed, plunging my entire world into suffocating darkness. The hum of the heater died instantly. She cut the breaker. It was the dead of winter.

Frigid air seeped through the windowpanes, slicing through my thin clothes. My muscles spasmed. I clamped both hands over my mouth. My jaw ached from biting down so hard.

I couldn't let my teeth chatter. I couldn't make a sound. If I made a noise, Rosalind would throw me away.

I wrapped my arms tightly around my chest, chasing a warmth that wasn't there. The sunlight faded from the window. The cold chewed all the way down to my bones.

My vision blurred into dark, static patches. A mechanical whir broke the silence. The vent above me rattled to life, blasting hot, dry air down my neck.

Sensation slowly prickled back into my numb fingertips. The door knob turned. Rosalind stepped into the room. I launched myself off the floor and threw my arms around her waist.

A heavy rush of relief flooded my veins. She came back. She still loved me. She couldn't stand seeing me suffer. Rosalind shoved me backward.

Her hands hit my shoulders hard. "You need to thank your sister.

If Arabella hadn't begged me, you would still be freezing in here." I yanked my notepad out again, quickly writing down line after line of frantic gratitude.

Arabella stepped out from behind Rosalind.

A slow, calculated smile stretched across her face. "If you really want to thank me, do me a solid." Arabella tilted her head. "I want to go to Europe.

Mom works way too hard, and I don't want to use her money. You're invisible anyway. Go steal the cash, and I get my trip." Chapter 3 My brain shortcircuited.

I shook my head frantically, stepping back. No.

My trembling fingers scrambled for my pen, but Arabella lunged forward and smacked the notepad out of my hands. "I know you don't want to, but if you don't care about me, at least think about Mom," Arabella snapped. "She works herself to the bone raising us.

Especially with your condition. Don't you think it's time you pulled your weight?" Arabella pointed toward the window. "I already scoped it out.

The Prestons across the street left for a long trip.

You just slip into their house, grab some highend jewelry or cash, and my Europe trip is funded." A high ringing started in my ears.

The sister I worshipped my entire life wanted me to be a burglar. I collapsed to my knees, aggressively scrawling a desperate WHY on a stray piece of paper. Rosalind didn't yell.

Instead, a sickeningly sweet smile stretched across her lips. She reached out to pat my head, but her fingertips brushed against my cheek instead. "Wow.

My little Sloane got so tall when I wasn't looking." A hollow, breathless laugh tore from my throat. My chest caved in. Every breath scraped against my ribs. She never looked at me.

She never cared. Of course she didn't know I grew up. Rosalind’s eyes brimmed with fake tears. Her voice cracked perfectly on cue. "Sloane, can't you just do this for me?

I know you're a good girl. But I am drowning in bills. Can't you just help your family out?

Do you really want to watch me work myself into an early grave?" A dull ache pulsed in my chest. A tiny, pathetic part of me still wanted to please her.

I knew she was drowning in bills, but this crossed a massive line. I couldn't be a thief. I stood completely still, refusing to pick up the pen.

Rosalind’s sweet facade shattered instantly. Her brow furrowed, and her voice spiked into a harsh, guttural demand. "I sacrificed everything to keep a roof over your head.

It's time you paid me back." She pointed a shaking finger at the front door. "If you don't do this, pack your things and get out of my house." Unloved kids always crave validation.

We bleed ourselves dry just to prove we aren't worthless burdens. I just wanted to show her I had value. I wanted to prove I belonged. A heavy sigh pushed past my lips.

I slipped out the front door into the pitchblack night. The freezing wind gnawed at my thin clothes, but it was nothing compared to the ice in my mother's eyes.

Two hours later, I stumbled back inside. Rosalind and Arabella waited in the living room, their eyes gleaming with greedy anticipation. Then they looked down.

Crimson drops pooled rapidly on the hardwood floor. I was severely injured. Arabella sprinted toward me. She didn't ask where I was bleeding.

She demanded to know what I brought back. I gasped for air. Whitehot agony ripped through my torn flesh.

The room spun, tilting dangerously, but I still managed to scribble one word on my bloody notepad: Nothing. Arabella shrieked.

She balled her hands into fists and rained blows down on my shoulders. "You useless freak! How are you this incompetent?! You can't even do one simple thing right!

What is the point of you even breathing?!" Her fists slammed directly into my open, bleeding wounds. A strangled scream tore up my throat, dying behind my gritted teeth.

Arabella and Rosalind only knew the Prestons had left for a trip. What they didn't know was that the Prestons had left their four guard dogs behind.

Chapter 4 The second I shimmied through the Prestons' cracked window, my scent hit the air. I was invisible. To four highly trained guard dogs, that didn't matter.

Deep, guttural snarls ripped through the dark. I stumbled backward, my sneakers squeaking on the tile. That tiny sound was all they needed. Teeth sank into my calf.

Claws shredded my arms. If they had actually been able to see me… I wouldn't have made it out of that house breathing. Rosalind and Arabella refused to listen.

They just stared at the empty space where I lay, their faces twisted in pure disgust. My lungs spasmed. Every ragged breath pulled at the torn meat of my leg. I gripped my pen.

My fingers, slick with my own blood, shook uncontrollably as I scratched out jagged, desperate letters on the notepad. Painkillers. Bandages. Please.

Arabella’s fist swung blindly into the air, connecting solidly with my bruised jaw. "You have the nerve to ask for meds? You pathetic freak!" Rosalind's voice cracked.

Actual tears spilled down her cheeks, weaponizing her fake distress. "We handed this to you on a silver platter! All you had to do was grab one piece of jewelry!

I threw away my life raising a completely useless parasite!" My arms gave out. I collapsed completely into a puddle of my own blood.

A heavy, suffocating exhaustion pinned me to the floor. Arabella’s palm cracked across my cheek, splitting my lip. I didn't flinch.

I just let the blows land, too numb to dodge anymore. I sat there in a pool of my own blood, until their arms grew heavy and their screaming faded into ragged gasps.

Rosalind stared at the crimson pooling on her expensive rug. She took a halfstep toward the hall closet where we kept the firstaid kit. Arabella snatched her wrist. "Mom, stop.

She's completely gaslighting you. It's just a guilt trip." Arabella sneered at the empty air. "She's invisible. Dogs can't bite what they can't see.

She probably just scraped her knee hopping a fence." Rosalind froze. The sliver of maternal instinct evaporated instantly. She nodded, thoroughly convinced.

Rosalind grabbed the heavy wet mop from the kitchen and tossed it onto the floor in front of me. "Scrub my floors clean!" Rosalind snarled. "Then get back out there.

You have three days to bring me cash, or you are out on the streets!" The bedroom doors slammed shut. The living room plunged into pitch black.

They discarded me like a bloody, useless rag. I stared down at the massive crimson puddle soaking into my jeans. A dry, rattling laugh ripped out of my throat.

The laugh morphed into a violent, hacking sob. Oxygen refused to fill my lungs. The motherly love I had always so desperately craved was ultimately something I would never get.

I dragged my bleeding body toward the massive potted ficus in the corner. I dug my fingers into the damp soil and pulled out a small glass vial.

I found it hours ago, hidden in the false bottom of Rosalind’s desk drawer. She always banned me from that room.

But with guests crowding the living room and bedroom today, she had no choice but to lock me in the study, and I finally discovered the vial she had hidden away.

The vial had been tucked inside a manila envelope, heavily annotated in Rosalind's sharp handwriting. It was the antidote.

A failsafe she had engineered years ago, just in case her little experiment went wrong. My bloodslicked fingers gripped the cold glass. I didn't hesitate. I didn't flinch.

I popped the cork and tipped the bitter liquid down my throat. I wanted my real body back. I wanted to finally exist.

If the price was losing my mother and my sister forever, I would gladly pay it. They were already dead to me. This miserable shadow of an existence was over.

I curled into a tight fetal position on the icy hardwood. I clamped my teeth down hard on my own wrist, stifling the scream tearing up my esophagus.

Millions of whitehot needles drilled directly into my bone marrow. My muscles convulsed. Black spots swarmed my vision. Then, the agony slowly dissolved into a dull, pulsing ache