I didn't die that day.

At the last second, I jumped out the window. Someone took me to the hospital in time.

The doctor said I was lucky. Any later, and I'd be a goner.

A lady on the next bed peeled an orange for her daughter and said to me, "Good thing you're fine, or your parents would've been worried sick."

I envied how she fed her kid piece by piece. The reflection in the glass showed me all alone.

I laughed, telling myself and everyone, "Yeah, they love me."

Then the door flew open. Robert and Susan rushed in.

I struggled to sit up, my tears falling. "Dad, Mom."

I almost died. I was so scared and longing for their comfort. A hug would be enough.

Instead, Susan grabbed my collar, yanked me off the bed, and threw me to the floor. The IV ripped out, and blood spurted.

"You witch!" She kicked me. "Faking allergies and jumping out windows to make us look bad, huh? Why didn't you just die?"

I curled up, hugging my head. I never meant that. I just wanted to stay alive.

I gambled on a three-story drop and won. But I lost the bet on their hate.

The glass reflected Robert leaning on the wall, watching Susan claw at me.

The lady on the next bed hugged her scared kid, cooing softly. People at the door stared at me with disgust, like I was a nasty brat.

The tiny hope I'd built that they loved me shattered.

It was all a lie. My parents didn't love me at all. They never did.

After that, they cut off my allowance. I had to board at school where I ate cheap food from the cafeteria and slept in a 16-person dorm with a thin blanket on a straw mat.

Scholarships covered my living expenses. But when I hit middle school and then high school, costs climbed. I studied day and night, chasing every extra point to survive.

I thought being a model student might make them love me again. But when I brought home a near-perfect test, only relatives praised me.

Susan just shot it down. "She's dumb as a rock. Not half as smart as James. No way she earned this."

She slapped me hard. "Why did you cheat?"

My face stung, but my heart hurt worse. For a moment, I just wanted to vanish.

Later, my teacher called to confirm my score. Susan just glanced at the shredded test in the trash and sneered, "This little score's nothing to brag about. James aced everything. You're such a letdown. Don't you feel ashamed?"

My heart was ashes. They wanted a genius like James. So, I tried to erase myself and become him.

I studied harder. Rashes, frostbite, and mosquito bites came and went.

When I walked out of my college entrance exam, I was ready to prove I was as good as James. Maybe they'd love me then.

But I died before the scores came out. I never got to be the brilliant kid they'd love.

I watched them pile food into James's empty bowl, silently serving him like he was still there. That had been going on for eight years.

I was the one who turned them into this. I deserved to die.

A knock came at the door, and a familiar voice called out, "Mom, Dad, open up. I've come back."

Robert lost his cool and knocked over a bowl as he stood. Susan, always a whirlwind, sank into her chair. Tears streamed down her face.

"James? Is it really him?" she muttered.

Robert shuffled to the door, his hands trembling as he turned the knob. The door swung open, revealing a tall man outside.

It was none other than James who had been dead for eight years.