My Death Was Just "Drama" to Her

Just because Cindy looked more pitiful, I was left to die.

Enduring the excruciating pain, I desperately clutched at Mom's pant leg and begged, "Mom, s-save me…"

She impatiently kicked me away. "If you're going to pretend to be hurt to hog my attention, at least pick the right time! Cindy twisted her ankle! What about you? That was just a minor fall. How bad can it be? It's a small injury. Get up yourself and go find a doctor. Don't bother me!

"If Cindy's injury is irreversible, can you take responsibility for it?"

The memory ended, but the intense pain spreading through my heart made me bend over. I wanted to curl up and hug myself for comfort.

A steady beeping sounded in my ears.

I saw myself on the hospital bed. I was no longer breathing, and the heart monitor flattened into a straight line.

And so, I died.

When I took my very last breath, the nurse never managed to reach Mom again.

The more I watched Cindy and Mom being all loving and close, the more disappointed I felt. The way Mom treated me was as if I weren't her daughter at all. I was more like a stray cat or dog living off her.

I wondered if Mom knew I had died, would she feel sad?

My guess was probably not.

…

A few days later, Cindy's injury had healed completely. Mom finally agreed to take her home. I followed them back as well.

Mom wrapped an arm around Cindy's shoulders and held her suitcase with her other hand.

She was still complaining nonstop, "You're getting discharged, and Flora doesn't even come back to help. What kind of older sister is she? Has she got no respect for me, her mother, anymore? When I get home, I'm definitely going to teach her a lesson!"

Cindy coughed a few times and covered her mouth, her face pale. "Don't be mad at Flora, Mom. She just wanted a bit of your attention but went about it the wrong way."

Mom's frown deepened upon hearing that. "You only see the best in people. That's why Flora keeps bullying you. There's no need to feel sorry for that wretch. She just flirts around with that seductress face of hers. If it weren't for her, I…"

She stopped herself mid-sentence and stopped the words that were about to tumble out of her mouth. The disgust in her eyes grew even more pronounced. It was so strong that it made me shudder.

"Forget it. Just thinking about her puts me in a bad mood," Mom hissed.

Just the mere mention of me would put her in a bad mood?

When I heard that, tears blurred my vision. I tried to reach out and grab Mom's hand, but my fingers passed through her body. I touched nothing but air.

Memories from the past surged into my mind like a rising tide.

My name was Flora, and Cindy was my younger sister. We were half-sisters who had the same mother but different fathers. Cindy was the child Mom had with my stepfather, Mikael Gardner.

Mom favored Cindy over me. She always felt that divorcing Mikael had deprived her of a complete family and that she owed her a happy childhood.

So, I always gave in and let Cindy have her way.

She splashed boiling water on me just because her classmates had praised me for being pretty when I went to pick her up. She forced me to learn gymnastics with her because Mom had insisted that she was more talented in it. She always wanted to outdo me in everything.

Her performance was lackluster during training. Bethany was very dissatisfied with her and chose me to enter the state team. So, Cindy lied and claimed I had stolen her spot.

She didn't even want Mom to be her spotter. The young male coach had once shown interest in me, so she insisted on taking him away from me. She also knew very clearly that Mom only had eyes for her and would never protect me.

A gymnast without a spotter's protection would expose themselves to severe risks. It was like standing on the edge of a cliff. One slight slip, and it would mean eternal ruin.

I had been too naive. I thought that as long as I didn't fight Cindy for Mom's affection and didn't expose her sloppy lies, I could at least survive.

How wrong I was!

I ended up dead on the operating table, reduced to a corpse that no one cared about.

It was just as Mom had wished. My existence irked her. She thought I deserved to die. More than anything, she hated me with her guts.

I used to think Mom hated me because of my unknown birth father.

I had burdened her for eight whole years, making it impossible for her to remarry. I dragged her down, making her the subject of our neighbors' ridicule and leaving her unable to hold her head high.

When Mikael appeared, things seemed to take a turn for the better. That honest and somewhat dull-looking man was willing to marry Mom and accept me, the baggage.