My Dad Sued Me for Throwing Up

This time, the extracted memories were fragmented, yet each one made people's veins bulge with fury.

On a weekend, Dad took the whole family on a trip. As soon as we got on the highway, I vomited all over the car.

Bryce finally had a birthday party, yet in front of everyone, I threw up straight on the cake.

He was ostracized by the entire class, grew deeply depressed, and attempted suicide by cutting his wrists. But before his suicide attempt, he left me all the allowance he had saved up.

"Estelle, I believe you didn't mean to do it. But I'm just so tired. They all call me the Vomit King."

Dad looked at the large screen, his eyes reddening. "If I hadn't found him in time, Bryce would have…"

Bryce pulled his sleeve, trying in vain to hide the scars on his wrist.

The live comments overflowed with sympathy.

"Oh, my God, why does a good brother always end up with a sister like this?"

"Get lost, Estelle! I'll be Bryce's sister instead!"

"Gosh, this is heartbreaking. We can't even bear to watch through a screen. I can't imagine how much Warren and Bryce have endured all these years."

But some noticed something strange.

"Look, whenever Bryce is asleep, Estelle is completely normal and never throws up."

"Also, whenever Estelle laughs after vomiting, there are always tears at the corners of her eyes."

"Maybe she doesn't want to be like this either."

My heart leapt with a flicker of hope. Finally, someone had touched on the truth.

But immediately, others jumped in to refute it.

"Isn't her vomiting just a deliberate attempt to disgust people? When Bryce is asleep, of course Estelle doesn't need to vomit."

"And don't you know what crocodile tears are? Laughing and crying—what is that if not the mark of a born monster?"

The memory came to an abrupt end, and the crowd erupted into chaos.

After a long while, Judge Lowery announced coldly, "After deliberation by the judicial panel, the original verdict for Ms. Fuller as inherently malicious remained unchanged."

The truth was getting closer, and I refused to give up. So, I demanded a third memory extraction.

But Judge Lowery flatly refused, "Extracting a memory costs 100 thousand dollars. Our budget is limited—we simply don't have the funds to indulge you."

Bryce pretentiously wiped away the tears that were never there.

"Estelle, stop this. I can't bear to see you suffer any more."

Seeing his hypocritical act made me want to tear him to pieces.

Just as Judge Lowery was about to announce the final verdict, I suddenly pulled out a bankbook.

This was the inheritance Mom had secretly left me before she died. It was exactly 100 thousand dollars, just enough for one more memory extraction.

Bryce's eyes widened sharply.

"No!"

The courtroom fell silent, everyone staring at him in confusion.

Bryce cleared his throat awkwardly. "What I meant is—Estelle has been frail since she was young, so there's no way she could withstand a third memory extraction.

"Given that I've been with Estelle day in and day out since we were kids, extracting my memories should be just as good. Your Honor, I'm willing to undergo the memory extraction in Estelle's place."

Nearly everyone was moved to tears.

With Judge Lowery's tacit approval, Bryce resolutely walked toward the memory extraction machine.

As the steel needles churned, his agonized screams tore through the air.

Dad couldn't bear to watch, his eyes red as he turned away.

A few minutes later, the memory was projected onto the large screen.

My eyes widened instantly.

No! This wasn't how it was!

Bryce's memories were seamlessly consistent.

When I was born, Bryce was overjoyed. When I fell ill, he cared for me with tireless devotion.

Time and again, I deliberately puked into Bryce's schoolbag, and each time, he would patiently reason with me.

However, not only did I refuse to reason, but I even laughed wildly and bit his arm until the flesh was torn and bloody before finally letting go.

When Bryce was eating, I snatched the bowl and vomited into it. When he was doing laundry, I threw up into the washing machine.

The crowd seethed with anger, cursing and saying I didn't deserve to live. Yet, I was utterly bewildered, because I had no memory of these things at all. I had never done any of this.

But unable to speak or write, all I could do was shake my head desperately.

Dad also seemed puzzled. "Bryce, why don't I remember any of this?"

Bryce feigned hurt. "Dad, you were hard at work every day. Whenever you weren't home, I'd clean up right after Estelle vomited. I was afraid you'd get upset with her, so I never mentioned any of it."

Dad hugged Bryce tightly, his eyes filled with heartache and distress.

The live chat was almost flooded with a barrage of comments.

"Poor Bryce. He's only five years older than Estelle, yet he's had to endure so much."

"Bryce is so mature beyond his years. Having a sister like this must be nothing but trouble."

"There shouldn't be any doubt left, right? Let's just get the verdict over with!"

After deliberation, the judicial panel unanimously decided that due to my utterly abhorrent behavior, there was no need for rehabilitation. Instead, I was to be sentenced to eradication.

The verdict was passed unanimously by all.

Bryce raised his hand the highest and even sneered at me mockingly.

He sighed and said, "If you had just pleaded guilty back then, you could've dragged out your days in prison for the rest of your life. It's a pity you insisted on extracting memories, only to have it end up backfiring on you.

"Don't worry, Estelle. I'll make sure we visit your grave regularly."

I was tightly bound by the judicial panel and hoisted directly above the shredder. The blades spun rapidly, and amid the shouts of the crowd, I slowly descended.

The soles of my shoes were instantly ground into shreds. I struggled desperately, but the more I thrashed, the faster I fell.

Just as my legs were about to be pulverized into mincemeat, the operator of the memory extraction machine suddenly shouted, "Your Honor, I've discovered something truly unbelievable!"

He held up a bloody, fleshy mass.

Bryce stared at it and immediately panicked.