Betrayed: When My Family Killed Me

I have never enjoyed any love because, in their eyes, I was always not a family member.

After the high school entrance exam, my parents secretly changed my application. I could have attended a top high school, but I ended up at a vocational school that didn't charge tuition.

When I found out the truth, I cried my heart out, clutching the admission letter and reading it over and over again.

My parents, seeing my breakdown, looked slightly guilty and awkwardly held my trembling hand.

"Lisa, why should a girl study so much? Besides, your brother needs money for his work. You understand, right? Vocational school is good. You can get a job in three years and start earning money."

I couldn't understand why my brother, who was working, still needed financial support from our parents.

I couldn't understand why my education was a burden to them.

That's when I finally understood what gender discrimination was.

With tears in my eyes, I nodded and packed my bags for vocational school. I enrolled in a nursing program that guaranteed job placement and spent three years living independently.

Life was like this, one wrong step led to another.

During those three years, I worked hard, earning scholarships, doing part-time jobs, saving every penny for tuition and living expenses.

Every time Linda called, she would plead, "Lisa, Jeremy is getting married soon, and we're short on money."

Despite my struggles and the burden of family needs, I felt guilty spending my own hard-earned money.

After graduation, I was assigned to work at a county hospital.

Without enough savings to rent a place, I had to move back home.

When I wasn't working, I was treated like a servant—washing all the clothes, doing all the chores.

They still called me a good-for-nothing.