Ghost Me Once More, and I’m Gone

During a camping trip, my older sister Chloe claimed she'd lost her most expensive necklace and tearfully begged me to go back into the woods to look for it. I went alone. In the dim forest, my foot snapped into a steel animal trap. I video-called Chloe for help, only to see her laughing so hard she could barely sit upright, waving the necklace that was supposed to be missing. “Got you, Emma. I was just bored.” “And now the Ghost Game starts. Nobody gets to help you, and nobody gets to talk to you!” My parents’ annoyed faces flashed across the screen. “You’re old enough to know better. That’s on you.” “Don’t call us. Ghosts can’t be heard during the Ghost Game.” They turned the camera away and went back to grilling trout for Chloe over the campfire. Blood slowly soaked through my jeans. With no one else left to call, I tried Ethan. He had lived on the same street as me since we were kids, and he’d been my boyfriend for five years. The phone rang for what felt like forever before he finally picked up. “Chloe already said the game started,” he said lazily. “Don’t ruin the rules.” “Just play along. I’m taking her to see the fireflies first. I’ll come get you when the game’s over.” Then he hung up. I stared at the black screen and finally understood. Once again, every single one of them had abandoned me. The Ghost Game had started because Chloe was terrified that after I was born, I would steal some of our parents’ love from her. To prove they loved her more, Mom and Dad had always gone along with it. When I was eight, Chloe announced, “Game starts,” and my parents ignored me while my fever climbed to 104 degrees. When I was seventeen, she said the same thing, and Ethan left me stranded on the day of my SAT, making me miss the test. And now, for the first time, I didn’t want to play anymore. I stopped begging them for help. Instead, I called 911 and contacted the nearest national park rescue service. If they wanted to pretend I didn’t exist, I’d make it permanent. ... By the time the rescue team found me, I was already showing signs of hypothermia. My limbs were so stiff I could barely feel them. In the darkness, I stared at the family photo on my lock screen. Chloe stood in the center, wrapped in our parents’ arms. I was at the far edge, shoulders tense, looking like I didn’t know where to put myself. The Ghost Game had been going on when that picture was taken too. My parents had known. They had smiled for the photo anyway. Three seconds later, I changed my lock screen. “Over here! Bring the stretcher!” One of the rescuers treated my leg and frowned. “Going this deep into the woods alone at night is dangerous. Where’s your family?” The wound from the trap hurt so badly my scalp went numb. I said nothing. I couldn’t bring myself to explain that my parents, my sister, and my boyfriend had knowingly left me to die because of a childish game. The truth sounded too absurd to say out loud. The rescuers carried me down the trail. About fifteen minutes later, we passed the campsite where my family was staying. Mom and Dad were gathered around the fire, making dinner. The smell of grilled trout drifted toward me. Chloe’s favorite. I was severely allergic to fish and shellfish. “Go easy on the salt,” Mom said. “Chloe doesn’t like it too salty.” Ethan was crouched beside her, holding a camera and adjusting the angle. “The light’s better here. Turn a little. Yeah, perfect.” When he pressed the shutter, the matching ring I had handmade for him last year was still on his left ring finger. Instinctively, I almost called out. “Mom... Dad... Ethan...” But the words died in my throat. Because Chloe suddenly announced, “The Ghost Game lasts until tomorrow morning. Nobody talks to Emma!” “Whoever talks to her first loves her more than me.” My parents immediately dropped what they were doing and rushed to reassure her. “How could you think that? Of course you’re our favorite.” “We’ll do what you say. Nobody’s going to look for her tonight.” Mom even added, “Emma owes you anyway. We know how much you lost when she was born.” Owes her? That was the word they had used my whole life. I owed Chloe. That was why when my high fever turned into severe pneumonia at eight years old and I spent two weeks in the hospital, neither of my parents came to visit. They left me with a private nurse and took Chloe to Disneyland. If my only crime was being born, twenty years of punishment should’ve been enough. Ethan hesitated. “Emma’s afraid of the dark. Can she really make it back alone?” For one ridiculous second, warmth returned to my frozen heart. For one stupid second, I thought maybe he still cared. Then I watched him grin and switch his phone to airplane mode. “Relax. I put one of the traps on the trail she’d have to take back. She won’t be showing up anytime soon.” “Tonight, I’m all yours.” That killed whatever hope I had left. Chloe happily looped her arm through his. “You’re the best.” “If Emma hadn’t come along, it would’ve always been you and me. She’s the one who got between us.” Ethan looked at her with pure indulgence. I suddenly remembered the first time Chloe had ever suggested the Ghost Game. Back then, Ethan had been the first person to object. When I got locked in a storage closet, left outside in the pouring rain, or treated like I didn’t exist by my own family, he had wiped away my tears again and again. He had sworn he would never take part in such a cruel game. I couldn’t even remember when he had changed. Just before they loaded me into the ambulance, I used the last of my strength to open my work email. My transfer request to the London office was still marked Pending Confirmation. I hit submit. After twenty years, I was quitting the game. Not just the game. This family too.