My sister burst into tears, covering her face with hands still stained with pus and blood. "I don't want it! This is not my leg!"

"But you said so."

"If you don't want it, then forget it."

My brother chuckled and went outside to fetch a saw.

He dragged my sister to the edge of the bed, pressing her down completely, with the saw aimed at her leg.

I covered my eyes, afraid to look.

The sound of the saw scraping against bones pierced my eardrums, but my sister didn't utter a sound of pain.

Something heavy was thrown on the ground, once, twice.

There was the sound of water inside the house, along with my brother's laughter.

"Ah, this is how it should be. Women are better off without legs."

"It's simply the perfect masterpiece."

I trembled, but couldn't control myself and glanced over.

Only my sister's upper body remained, lifted high by my brother, as if she were a puppet doll.

My brother, facing upwards, placed her on his abdomen, and they were both covered in blood at the point where they connected.

My sister's head swayed up and down, not lifting it at all, always looking down.

My brother threw her onto the bed, smacking his lips, seemingly unsatisfied.

He took my sister's legs and went outside, I'm not sure what he intended to do.

Trembling, I reached out to grab my sister's arm, trying to carry her on my back.

"Sister, don't die, I beg you!"

"I'll take you to the police, I'll take you to the hospital."

"Let's leave this house, let's go now."

My sister's half-closed eyes suddenly widened, and she grabbed my neck with both hands.

"Why, wasn't it you?"

Her expression was like that of a vengeful ghost, and her arms trembled forcefully.

Did my sister hate me, wanting me dead?

Or did she mistake me for someone else?

My brother returned, his legs missing from his hands, and he hoisted my wailing sister onto his shoulders.

My mother hurriedly cleaned up the blood my sister left behind.

I looked at her and said, "Mom, brother killed sister, he killed someone!"

My mother refused to admit it, "Yesterday, your brother saw maggots on your sister's leg. He had to saw off the infected part. He did it to save her, but his good intentions resulted in a bad outcome!"

"What does your brother know? He's not malicious, he just used the wrong method. Why are you so aggressive?"

"The body has already been buried, let it rest in peace. Let's turn the page on this matter."

My brother came back last night, his footsteps dripping with water.

He didn't bury my sister's body at all!

My mother collected all of my sister's bloodstained clothes, piled them up in the courtyard, and set them on fire. She then swept away the ashes, along with the yellow and white paper money, hurriedly taking them out of the house.

I followed behind her and watched as she threw these things into the pool behind our house, her hands clasped together in prayer, murmuring words.

But strange things began to happen in our house that night.