2 September 1994
[Elizabeth's POV]
It was the last day of the Autumn term. After this, we'd get two weeks off before school started again. In this country, summer boiled at 36 to 40 degrees Celsius. Autumn and winter were gentler, somewhere between 16 and 24.
"Happy birthday to you…"
The children of Pearson's clapped and sang for Gabriella, the birthday girl. She held a shiny metallic balloon with Happy 8th Birthday printed on it. Her table was covered in pink and purple gerberas, a white cream cake, and a single candle flickering proudly.
I smiled. I was happy for her.
But still…
A heavy wave rose inside me. My birthday was in four days.
Would I ever have a birthday that didn't fall in the school holidays?
There were no classmates to invite, no teacher to smile and say my name. No cake in the classroom, no songs. Just silence. That made it easy for everyone to forget. And really, no one ever did know.
I thought of my brother's birthday in five months. Every year, Mum let me skip school to help her set up a big party table at his school. All his friends would be there. His teachers, too.
The jealousy twisted in my chest. My eyes stung.
"Thank you, children, for celebrating Gabriella's birthday! Help yourselves to chocolates, cake, and sweets," her mum chirped.
I saw her glance my way. Quickly, I stepped behind a taller boy and blinked the tears out before she misunderstood.
"Children, let's take a group photo!" the teacher called.
After the photo, school was over.
I was packing my bag when Gabriella's mum found me.
"Little girl, I saw you crying. Are you okay?"
"Sorry, ma'am. I'm okay. Everything is perfect and beautiful. I'm happy for Gabriella."
I tried to hold her gaze. My smile wobbled.
"Here," she said kindly, holding out the metallic balloon Gabriella had been clutching all morning. "Have a balloon."
I hesitated. Then I took it.
The regret hit immediately — like a stone in my throat.
"Mum! That's my balloon!" Gabriella whined, stomping her feet.
A giant shadow loomed over me.
"Elizabeth! Return the balloon to Gabriella," Mum hissed.
My stomach sank. I didn't even want it anymore. I shoved it back into Gabriella's hands as if the balloon had scalded mine.
"Do you want people to think I never taught you better?" she muttered, pulling me closer. Then louder, for the others to hear: "Gabriella was so generous to share her things with you. But you—what did you do? Manipulate your way into getting a balloon?"
I wanted to say something, to explain. I didn't ask for it.Gabriella's mum gave it to me. But the words stuck in my throat.
"I think we will make a move," Gabriella's mum said with an awkward smile. "Gabriella, say goodbye to Elizabeth."
Gabriella waved, her face sweet and smug at the same time. As she left, hand in hand with her mum, she looked back and stuck her tongue out at me.
Mum tugged my hand. "Let's go, we can buy a nicer balloon."
I grabbed my backpack. My whole chest burned. Bitches! I screamed inside my head. I was shocked that the word had formed so clearly.
How did that happen?
Where did I get the word from?
Mum kept talking — something about behaviour and knowing my place. But I couldn't hear her.
All I could think was: It's not my fault.She gave it to me. I didn't even ask. Why did it feel like I did something wrong?
When we got home, I was greeted by a strange sight in the living room. An elderly woman who claimed to be my paternal grandmother sat on the left. On the right, an adult couple — a little older than my parents — sat stiffly, giving off a cold, threatening aura. And in the middle, my dad, who looked cornered.
No one smiled.
Something serious was going on.
Mum nudged me toward the bedroom without a word. I was to stay inside while the adults talked. As she closed the door behind me, I heard the elderly woman scoff, "Children should not be seen and not be heard."
I peeled off my school uniform and changed into something more comfortable. The air was too thick. The voices outside were too heavy. I curled into bed, cradled in the arms of sleep, as if it were the only safe place left.
* * *
"Follow the movement of the horse with your seat and core," a man in black robes instructed.
I followed his gaze and saw him.
Yongqi.
Straddling a beautiful white horse, his red robes flowed around him like fire. His posture, steady and regal, made him look older than he was.
"Your highness! Readjust your reins!"
"Neighhh!"
The horse reared up, spooked, thrashing violently on its hind legs. Maybe…it was my sudden presence that startled it.
"Fifth Prince!" the man shouted, terror in his voice. A prince's injury could mean the official's beheading.
"No! No, no, no!"
I screamed and ran frantically toward Yongqi as he fell with a sickening thud. He was just a boy. How could a body that young survive a fall like that?
My heart pounded. My face drained of blood. Yongqi, my 'ghostly' friend, had been nothing but kind to me.
"Please! Somebody help him!" I cried.
But no one turned.
No one heard me.
I reached for him, but my hands passed right through his shoulders — again and again, no matter how hard I tried.
That was when it hit me.
I was the ghost in his world, watching, screaming, unable to do a thing.
"Yongqi!"
I jerked awake, gasping for air. It all felt too real to be a dream. Too sharp.
"Did I just… witness his final moments? Is that how he died? From falling off a horse?" I covered my mouth and let out a few quiet sobs. I didn't want to startle the adults outside.
* * *
"So, it is settled," the elderly woman declared.
As quickly as I could, I dried my tears, threw away the crumpled tissues, and climbed back into bed to pretend I'd been asleep the whole time.
The door creaked open.
"Elizabeth, wake up!" Mum called. "There are some people you need to meet."
I held onto my brother as we stepped into the living room.
"Children, this is your grandmother — your daddy's mother. This is your uncle Ric and aunt Lily, your daddy's elder brother and his wife. And these are your older cousins, Virginia and Lloyd."
I extended my hand to offer a polite handshake, but no one moved. I glanced at Damien. His hands stayed by his side. So did everyone else's. For a moment, I was confused.
Am I an alien? Did I miss something?
Isn't a handshake the proper thing to do when you meet someone for the first time? Awkwardly, I pulled my hand back, smiling to cover the sting.
Virginia and Lloyd snickered.
Dad pretended not to notice.
"Hahaha!" Mum gave a forced laugh and turned to Grandmother.
"The children are just…shy. There'll be plenty of time for the children to get to know each other better. They'll learn to get along."
"Elizabeth," she turned to me sharply, "they'll be moving in tonight. It's only temporary. Go pack up your room. I want it empty in two hours. And don't forget to help Damien with the packing too."
Little did I expect that accommodating them in our four-bedroom apartment would mean my entire family squeezing into the master bedroom — all four of us, with our belongings crammed into every corner.
Uncle Ric and Aunt Lily took over my room. Their teenage children, Lloyd and Virginia, claimed the study as their bedroom. And Grandmother took my brother's room.
Piece by piece, their furniture arrived, flooding the house until there was no space left to walk in the living room. They didn't come in quietly. They strutted in regal, entitled, noses in the air. They moved in like they owned the place.
Friendly?
No.
This didn't look like the 'temporary help' we were supposed to provide.
This was an alien invasion in real life. Maybe that's where movies got the idea from.
* * *
[Yongqi's POV]
I felt a sharp pain shoot up my spine as I landed hard on the ground. Black dots clouded my vision. I saw Elizabeth running toward me, her face twisted in horror.
Is this it?
My final moment?
Is Elizabeth here to take me to her strange land?
That was the last thought I had before everything went dark.
When I opened my eyes again, I was no longer in the horse training grounds. I was… here. In Elizabeth's house. She lay in bed, gasping, distressed. I didn't want to frighten her. I stayed hidden in a dark corner and watched.
"Yongqi," she whispered, clutching her chest. "Did I just witness his final moments? Is that how he died?"
I froze.
That was her. I hadn't imagined it. She was there — in my world — watching me just as I am watching her now.
Then it hit me.
Am I dead?
Am I a real ghost now?
Or… am I still alive and unconscious in my chamber?