Chapter 1

Growing up, I was the ultimate good girl in everyone’s eyes.

Sweet, obedient, and never talking back.

It was just that my internal monologue was an absolute blockbuster.

After graduating from college and entering the workforce, my corporate rage grew stronger by the day.

When I finally went home for the holidays, I noticed everyone looking at me with total shock.

Turns out, they could all hear my thoughts.

This was my first year working, and I had transformed from a bubbly, cheerful girl into an exhausted corporate zombie radiating pure resentment.

After surviving until the Christmas break, my company finally let us off.

I packed my bags, boarded the train, and watched the buzzing crowd of holiday travelers rushing home.

A wave of emotion hit me: God, it’s so lively. Is this what living people feel like?

The burly guy sitting next to me shot me a bizarre look, but said nothing.

I closed my eyes to rest peacefully, mentally belting out a pop anthem at the top of my lungs.

“Stop singing! I’m trying to watch a movie!” the guy suddenly yelled at the ceiling.

I jolted awake, startled, and stared at him.

The big guy wore a look of utter tragedy. Silently, I shut up in my head.

Just as I was about to drift into a deep sleep, a kid around five or six years old behind me started kicking my seat repeatedly.

I took a deep breath and kept quiet: Don’t start none, won’t be none.

Then I heard the kid’s mother say offhandedly:

“Sweetie, stop kicking.”

And that was it.

The kid ignored her completely, hammering away at my seat for another thirty minutes. I snapped, standing up abruptly and turning around with a deadpan, chilling smile.

“Could you please stop kicking, buddy?”

To my surprise, the kid took one look at me and burst into hysterical wails, as if he had just seen a demon. I swear my expression wasn't that scary.

The mother finally looked up, but her fury was aimed straight at me.

“He’s just a child! He doesn't know any better! Look how terrified you made him! Was that really necessary?!”

“A grown adult picking a fight with a little kid!”

“Besides, he doesn't just kick anyone. He’s kicking your seat because he likes you! He’s just playing!”

I nodded, said nothing, and sat back down.

I closed my eyes and began calculating in my head:

That kid’s drumsticks look pretty tender. Way softer than the last toddler I ate.

The mom doesn’t seem to care much about him anyway. Maybe I’ll sneak him away when we arrive.

Honestly, I could just eat both of them. My parents must be starving by now. Middle-aged meat is chewy—my parents love a good workout for their teeth.

Personally, I prefer the tender ones.

As I brainstormed, I turned around and flashed a sinister, unhinged grin at the two of them. Catching their petrified stares, I slowly licked my lips and let out an exaggerated, ravenous drool.

This time, the kid truly went into hysterics.

The mother scooped him up and practically sprinted down the aisle, muttering under her breath:

“Psycho, absolute psycho!”

With them gone, peace was finally restored. I closed my eyes to sleep again, only to feel someone poking my arm twice.

I opened my eyes to see the big guy next to me, his face pale with suppressed terror. He frantically pointed at his phone screen.

He had typed a note in all caps:

“Little sister, I wasn't yelling at you earlier! Please don’t eat me!”