“Mom! Why should I feel guilty? Why should you forgive me? I really don’t understand what you’re talking about!” I angrily threw the report card on the coffee table and returned to my room. 

I had originally thought that my parents would praise me for getting full marks in all subjects, but to my surprise, they weren’t even interested in looking at it. I lay on the bed and burst into tears. 

Suddenly, a pair of cold little hands pushed me. I looked up and saw it was my sister. 

My sister was a fool, still the same. She stretched out her wet index finger, her eyes full of strong anticipation, pointing out the window, “Sister, there’s someone outside.” 

“Get out!” I yelled. 

My sister was stunned for a moment, her expression immediately dimmed, and then she slowly walked out. 

I knew what she was going to do, so I rushed to the window, stuck my head out, and yelled at my sister who had just climbed out: “Get out—” 

My sister was obviously scared by me, and panicked and put her index finger back into her mouth to relieve her inner anxiety, but this fool had no idea that if she let go, she would fall. 

"Silly! Don't let go!" I yelled, and my sister actually laughed. Laughing, she fell from the fourth floor... 

As she fell, she said, "Sister, there's someone outside!" - 9] 

My sister died. 

Before my eyes, she blossomed into a small red flower.

Ever since her death, I've refused to leave my bedroom. Every day, I stare blankly out the window, at the spot where my sister fell. There, the blood had dried, then been cleansed away, just like my sister's life. Then 

I remembered: this wasn't the first time my sister had fallen. Yes, not the first time. 

I remember when my sister was three, she always clung to me like a shadow, completely ignoring my teasing and pranks. I hated her, hated that my parents valued her more, loved her more, than the two of us. 

I remembered it all. 

One day, I was buried in my homework when my sister suddenly ran up behind me, her index finger between her teeth, and said, "Sister, there's someone outside." 

I said absentmindedly, "Oh!" 

"Sister, there really is someone outside!" my sister insisted. 

"Oh, why don't you just go out and check?" I waved my hand impatiently, assuming she meant "outside" by the door. 

But a moment later, I heard someone scream downstairs. I hurried to the window and found my sister hanging from the security bars on the second floor. 

I still remember holding my sister's tiny body, crying and cursing, "You fool, you liar, there's no one outside! There's no one outside! You liar, I'll never talk to you again!" 

I was just cursing casually, but I never expected my sister to actually become a fool. 

She must have hated me for turning her into a fool, so she stubbornly repeated the same words every day, making me feel guilty and miserable. 

But in reality, I was doing it on purpose, deliberately forgetting that it was my own negligence that had turned my sister into a fool. 

My parents hadn't slept well in months, not because of my sister, but because of me. Every night at ten o'clock, I would stand up woodenly, point out the window, and mutter blankly, "Sister, there's someone outside." Then I would walk to my sister's room, climb out her window, and climb along the balcony to my own window. 

I couldn't stop myself; I had to do it. Only this way could I alleviate the guilt I felt. 

Later, my parents barred all the windows. I couldn't repeat my sister's actions anymore, so I could only stare blankly out the window, day after day, night after night.