Stop Begging, My Body Can't Hear You
Daisy Swift · Completed · 6.6k Words
Introduction
Just because Beckett had mistakenly taken sedatives and fallen into a coma, my mother firmly believed that I—a worthless, sickly burden—had deliberately poisoned him out of jealousy to ruin her perfect son's future.
Ignoring my fatal immunodeficiency, knowing that even a microscopic trace of wasp venom would kill me, she dragged me into the abandoned tack room infested with wasp nests and locked the door.
Hundreds of wasps swarmed out. My airway rapidly swelled and closed amidst excruciating pain.
Through the wooden door, I heard my newly awakened brother crying and pleading, along with my mother's cold obstruction and curses.
Leaning against the corner of the wall, I slowly released my bloody, mangled fingers that had been clawing at the door.
In the final moments before my consciousness scattered, I finally stopped struggling.
Mother, if dying in this sunless tack room was your final expectation for me, then... as you wish.
Chapter 1
I died the day before my brother Beckett’s state equestrian qualifiers.
Just because Beckett had mistakenly taken sedatives and fallen into a coma, my mother firmly believed that I—a worthless, sickly burden—had deliberately poisoned him out of jealousy to ruin her perfect son's future.
Ignoring my fatal immunodeficiency, knowing that even a microscopic trace of wasp venom would kill me, she dragged me into the abandoned tack room infested with wasp nests and locked the door.
Hundreds of wasps swarmed out. My airway rapidly swelled and closed amidst excruciating pain.
Through the wooden door, I heard my newly awakened brother crying and pleading, along with my mother's cold obstruction and curses.
Leaning against the corner of the wall, I slowly released my bloody, mangled fingers that had been clawing at the door.
In the final moments before my consciousness scattered, I finally stopped struggling.
Mother, if dying in this sunless tack room was your final expectation for me, then... as you wish.
.....
"Move, you spiteful little brat! Do you think I don't know what you're plotting? You're just jealous of Beckett! Jealous that he gets to compete in the state equestrian qualifiers, jealous that he has the health and talent you will never have!"
Vivian dragged me along; my knees scraped against the gravel, bleeding profusely.
"Mom... I didn't... I swear I didn't touch Beckett's cup... How could I possibly drug him!"
"Still making excuses!" Vivian raised her hand and slapped me hard across the face.
"Beckett passed out right after drinking the water you poured! The doctor said he ingested an overdose of sedatives! If they hadn't found him early, he wouldn't even be able to get on a horse tomorrow! That is his only ticket to the National Youth Team! You piece of trash, your own body is rotting away, so you want to drag the whole family down with you, don't you?"
"That wasn't the water I poured! Beckett did it himself—" I cried, trying to explain, but Vivian wouldn't even give me the chance to finish.
In her world, Beckett was perfect. He was the pride of the family, a future equestrian star.
And I, Harper, was just a burden who constantly needed expensive medication, someone whose immune system could trigger a fatal storm just from catching a chill.
If anything happened to Beckett, it absolutely had to be the work of his dark, twisted sister.
"Shut up!" She shoved me toward the old tack room.
"No! Mom, please, don't lock me in here!" I grabbed onto the doorframe, tears violently flooding my face. "There are wasp nests in there! Did you forget? Dr. Callaghan said there were at least three giant hornet nests inside that haven't been cleared out yet!"
I suffered from severe MAS. My immune system was like a highly volatile bomb. A normal person stung by a wasp might just experience swelling and pain, but for me, that tiny bit of venom would trigger a fatal, systemic allergic reaction. My airway would swell shut in minutes, and I would suffocate to death.
Vivian's eyes held nothing but coldness and disgust.
"Do you think this kind of excuse will get you out of your punishment?" Vivian sneered, prying my fingers off the doorframe one by one. "Yes, there are wasps inside, but as long as you sit quietly in the corner and don't make a sound, why would they sting you? If you do get stung, then it's just God punishing you for being such a vicious girl!"
"Mom! I'll die! I'm really going to die!" I screamed in despair, my voice cracking from extreme terror.
"Die? How could a parasite like you die so easily?" Vivian gave a violent shove, plunging me entirely into the dim tack room.
"Mom! Open the door! Please, open the door!" I scrambled and threw myself at the door, pounding on it with all the strength I had left.
"You can stay in there and reflect on what you've done! I won't let you out until Beckett successfully finishes his competition tomorrow!"
Outside, Beckett, still reeling from the sedatives, stumbled over and frantically rattled the doorknob.
"Mom, open the door! She has severe immunodeficiency! Those toxic wasps will kill her!"
But Mom remained unmoved. "No! She has to learn her lesson today!"
"Mom, it's all my fault!" Beckett fell to his knees. "I put the sedatives in myself! I couldn't handle the intense training... I just wanted to escape! It’s all my fault, please let Harper out!"
A faint glimmer of hope rose within me. I thought the truth would be enough to make her hesitate.
But what came through the door was her even sharper, furious scolding: "Did Harper put you up to this? She's a sickly wretch who can't stand to see you succeed, so she insists on dragging you down with her!"
"Not at all! It was me!" Beckett was trembling with desperation.
"Shut up! You've been brainwashed by that wretched girl!"
I curled into a ball as the wasp venom charged wildly through my bloodstream. Every breath felt like swallowing razor blades, the asphyxiation strangling my throat.
Suddenly, my limbs went into severe, uncontrollable spasms, thrashing wildly against the floor.
The commotion terrified Beckett. He slammed heavily against the door like a madman, his cries tearing through the air. "Harper! Apologize to Mom! Just admit you're wrong and she'll save you!"
My throat had long since swollen shut, unable to produce even a single syllable for help. Yet, this soundless thrashing, in Mom's ears, was just the defiance of an unrepentant brat.
"Do you see? She doesn't realize she's wrong at all. She's still trying to provoke me," she warned Beckett coldly.
Beckett froze in utter despair.
Just then, the visiting vet, Callaghan, noticed the commotion.
He took one look at the heavily locked door, all color draining from his face: "Beckett, is your sister locked inside?!"
It had always been like this.
When I handed a cold towel to a sweating Beckett, Mom firmly insisted I maliciously wanted him to catch a cold and locked me outside in the freezing snow; when I grabbed the first-aid kit to clean my brother's scrapes, she was convinced I was intentionally hurting him to cripple his legs, forcefully grinding my hands against rusty horseshoes until they bled.
No matter what I did, every act of kindness toward my brother was seen as a treacherous plot in her eyes.
The excruciating pain triggered by the toxins intertwined with years of accumulated despair, destroying my life force bit by bit.
And outside, grasping at a final straw, Beckett let out a desperate roar at Callaghan: "Callaghan! Break the door down! It's full of wasps inside!"
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