Mom’s Little Lab Rat, I Died On New Year’s Eve Novel – When my little sister broke her leg years ago, I believed it was my fault. Even after she healed, I carried that guilt everywhere. Mom became stricter after the accident. She said I needed to be calmer, quieter, more responsible.
Every night, I followed her rules without question. On Christmas Eve, I asked softly, “Can I skip tonight? I just want to watch the fireworks.” Her answer was firm. “Your sister went through a lot. You need to reflect.” Later, I followed them outside. And I saw Olivia running freely across the yard. She had healed long ago.
The “lesson” I had been living under wasn’t about her injury anymore. It was about control. I went back to my room and opened an old drawer. Inside were tickets, photos, memories of trips Mom and Olivia had taken together. Mom smiling. Olivia laughing. Moments I had watched from a distance. For years, I thought if I became smaller, quieter, better… I would finally earn the same warmth.
Chapter 2 That night, as fireworks lit the sky, I stayed in bed. Not out of fear. But because I was thinking. I pulled out my old notebook and read the notes I’d written over the years—ways I had tried to improve myself. “Be quieter.” “Don’t argue.” “Don’t ask for too much.” I realized something painful. I had been shrinking myself for love. And love should never require that.
When Mom came home, she called my name. I didn’t answer right away. Not because I was hiding. But because I was deciding.