After my family went bankrupt, my parents insisted it was time for me to learn independence. They sat me down, did the math, and declared that raising me for over two decades had cost them five million dollars. Naively, I believed them when they reassured me they didn’t actually expect me to pay it back and signed the promissory note. To ease their burden, I handed over my bank card, worked long hours during the day, and took on extra shifts at night. I told myself I was doing it so they could live more comfortably. But when I was diagnosed with a tumor and asked them for 100 thousand dollars to cover my treatment, they refused without hesitation. “All the money in your account went toward repaying debts,” my mother said flatly. “You’re still young; it’s probably just a misdiagnosis.” As I hung up, my phone lit up with a notification. Claudia had forgotten to block me from seeing her latest post. A brand-new luxury bracelet, worth tens of thousands, gleamed in the picture. Stacks of property deeds and car keys lay beneath it. The caption read: [Thank you, Mom and Dad, for the best graduation gift ever!] I laughed. So it had all been a lie. The bankruptcy, the debt, the burden of my existence. Only their exploitation of me had been real. ***** I stumbled home in a daze. The house was empty. The lights were off. Darkness swallowed every corner of the tiny apartment I rented. A string of unread messages waited for me on my phone. Mom: [Your father and I have plans tonight, so we won’t be home for dinner.] Claudia: [Going out with friends. Won’t be home.] But her social media told a different story. [Graduation party at the villa! Love you, Mom and Dad!] I turned off my phone and collapsed onto the worn-out sofa. This was the place I had rented for them. The location wasn’t great, but it was cheap. Two bedrooms, one for my parents, one for Claudia. I slept on the couch. A cheap couch, carrying the persistent smell of mold, just like my life. No wonder they despised it here. A dull ache throbbed in my skull. Nausea crawled up my throat. I staggered to the bathroom, clutching the toilet as I emptied the meager contents of my stomach. It was worse than any night of heavy drinking, worse than any work exhaustion I’d ever experienced. If this continued, I might really die. For a brief moment, my mind cleared. I reached for my phone, desperate to call for help. Before I could dial, my mother’s name flashed on the screen. I hesitated, then answered. “Mom, I…” She cut me off before I could finish. “Christie, don’t forget to pick up some cupcakes from that shop on the south side. Your sister’s been craving them. “Oh, and the water and electricity bills are due. Make sure you take care of them tomorrow.” Her tone was casual as if nothing was wrong. After all, these were indeed my duty. A tightness gripped my chest. “Mom, I’m sick. I feel terrible. Can you—” Can you save me? I wanted to tell her about the tumor and the surgery I needed. I wanted to beg her to call for an ambulance. I was still young. I didn’t want to die. But she had no patience for me. A scoff crackled through the receiver. “Oh, quit pretending. If you didn’t want to go, you could’ve just said so.” Her voice sharpened. “Is this because of the money? Are you really that petty? After everything we’ve done for you, you can’t even be grateful?” She hung up before I could say another word. My phone slipped from my fingers, landing with a dull thud on the floor. My body followed. Consciousness slipped away. I thought that was the end. But then, a sudden splash of ice-cold water shocked me awake. I gasped, shivering and disoriented, just in time for a stinging slap across my face. The sound echoed through the bathroom, snapping my foggy mind into painful clarity. My cheek burned. My eyes fluttered open to see my parents standing over me, fury burning in their faces. Behind them, Claudia stood with red-rimmed eyes, feigning distress. But when our gazes met, she smirked wickedly. Then, she spoke, her voice dripping with sweet malice. “Mom, Dad, look at her wrist. Isn’t that my missing bracelet?”
“Christie, how could you steal from your sister? “We were actually foolish enough to worry about you when we saw you lying on the ground! “Putting on a show, huh? Don’t even think about getting our money by faking illness! You brat!” My father’s furious gaze bored into me. His anger was a living thing, bristling and violent. Before I could respond, he raised his belt and brought it down hard. A sharp, stinging pain tore across my arm. I gasped, a cry escaping my lips. My mother seemed a bit distressed. “Christie, how could you do that? “Just return the bracelet, apologize to your sister, and your father will let this go.” They didn’t even give me a chance to explain. How ridiculous. “I didn’t take it.” I shook my head, my voice steady. “I won’t apologize for something I didn’t do.” Their faces darkened. My father’s belt lashed down again, harder this time. Pain bloomed across my skin. A red mark was now visible on my arm. Claudia, standing by my mother’s side, played her role flawlessly. “Maybe Christie had her reasons,” she said, her voice soft. “She did ask for money yesterday, didn’t she? Maybe she really is short of money. That’s why she took my bracelet…” My father’s rage only grew as he cut her off. “Short of money? Impossible. “Christie, did you get yourself involved with some lowlifes? Is that why you suddenly need money?” I saw the disdain and suspicion in his eyes and felt myself sinking. They didn’t just distrust me. They despised me. How could my own father ask such a question? Clenching my fists, I lifted my wrist, showing off the diamond-studded bracelet. “I have a question for you as well. If we’re so ‘bankrupt,’ how can Claudia afford this?” Why did my entire family keep me away from the truth? Why was I the only one who suffered? My face was probably too pitiful to look at. My father took a step back, his grip on the belt loosening. He looked at me, his face filled with guilt. My mother’s expression also faltered. They had almost forgotten their own lies. Such an expensive bracelet shouldn’t belong to a family that had gone bankrupt. My parents fell silent. They didn’t know how to explain. Claudia recovered first. Her voice wavered just enough to sound genuine. “It’s fake, Christie. “I love it so much, so Dad and Mom bought me a fake one as graduation gift.” My parents latched onto the excuse like drowning men grasping at straws. “Yes, just a cheap imitation,” my mother added quickly. “Claudia’s your sister. Why are you so bitter?” “Regardless,” my father said, voice regaining its strength, “you stole. And that’s your fault.” They clung to this pathetic lie, using it to regain their footing and once again turn their accusations on me. No one noticed my pale face or my unsteady stance. No one cared about the redness and bruises on my cheeks and body. Even now, they refused to tell me the truth. I felt like a balloon stretched to its limit, on the verge of bursting. “I’ll say it again. I didn’t take her bracelet!” But the look in my parents’ eyes made it painfully clear—they didn’t believe me. “Still denying it?” My father roared. “Our family has never had a thief! No matter how poor we are now, we won’t resort to stealing! “Christie, looks like we have to teach you a lesson today!” Ignoring my struggles, they grabbed my arm and, despite my weakened state, dragged me onto the balcony. The door locked behind me with a decisive click.
The balcony of the rental apartment was half-exposed to the elements. It was late autumn, and the temperature had long since dropped. I must have been unconscious for an entire day. The sky had darkened once again. A gust of cold wind swept through, making me shiver uncontrollably. When I came home yesterday, I had left my coat on the rack. Now, all I had on was a thin sweatshirt, completely inadequate against the biting chill. I pounded on the balcony door, desperate for them to let me in. Inside, my parents and Claudia clearly heard the knocking. But they only spared me a cold glance before turning back to the cupcakes I bought. Laughing and chatting, they sat together, sharing the treat. I watched them through the glass, helpless. I hadn’t had a single drop of water since I passed out last night. My stomach twisted painfully, made worse by how violently I had thrown up before. Claudia took the cake Dad handed her and, with a smug grin, deliberately waved it in my direction. She looked ready to burst with glee. This was her favorite snack. Even though the shop was miles away, my parents had gone out of their way to bring it back for her. I couldn’t recall them ever doing something like that for me. Probably because they never had. Because even I had no idea what my favorite food was. All my life, my parents had drilled a single rule into me—never fight with my sister over what she liked. If I did, they said, I’d be selfish. And no one liked selfish people. I had been terrified of that, scared they would dislike me if I was deemed selfish. At first, I did as they wished, always yielding, always giving up what I wanted. But as time passed, after countless times of stepping aside, it simply stopped mattering. Something was good? Something was bad? I liked something? I didn’t? It made no difference. If they gave it to me, fine. If they didn’t, that was fine, too. I once overheard them saying I was becoming dull, emotionless. I had wondered if there was something wrong with me, but I never found an answer. Until now. Until I saw Claudia’s triumphant smirk. It wasn’t just about giving up the things she liked. They had taught me to give up myself. I stopped knocking. I didn’t want to watch their picture-perfect little family any longer. I turned away and looked outside. This neighborhood was old and rundown, but the rent was cheap, so nearly every unit was occupied. I crouched down, watching as one window after another lit up, the smell of home-cooked meals wafting through the air. For the first time, I realized how much I resembled a tiny boat. A small, directionless vessel, drifting aimlessly on an endless sea. Inside, my parents grew furious when they saw me turn away. The cakes were rich and heavy; the three of them couldn’t finish them all. They had planned to let me in if I caved and apologized. But they never expected me to be this stubborn. Dad lost his appetite. Mom also found the food tasteless. Only Claudia was still eating, though her stomach was small. After two more bites, even she stopped. She glanced at Dad, then at Mom. “Should we save some for her?” Dad scoffed, “Save it for her? I’d rather feed it to a dog!” “That rotten attitude! Who does she think she got it from? She did something wrong and won’t even apologize!” The more Mom thought about it, the angrier she became. Then, she swept the cakes into the trash. “She doesn’t deserve them. Let’s go to bed. “Claudia, don’t bother with your sister. Let her reflect on herself.” Claudia hesitated for a moment before nodding. Once they were gone, she strolled up to the balcony with a grin. “Sis, you’re so pathetic.” She sneered in a whisper before skipping back to her room. I never turned around. But I heard every single word, clear as day. My fingers brushed over my chest. I should have felt hurt. Once upon a time, I had loved them so much. I had longed for their approval. Back then, nothing made me happier than seeing them smile on payday. Now, I only felt one thing. Claudia was right. I really was pathetic. By now, I had finally come to understand. Those moments when Claudia accidentally forgot to block me from seeing her social media posts weren’t accidents. She did it on purpose to taunt me. While I worked myself to the bone, desperately trying to earn our parents’ approval, setting myself on fire just to keep this family warm, she only saw me as a joke. Because she was the one they truly cherished. She didn’t have to lift a finger, yet our parents would always give her the very best. I had to admit it—I was jealous. What I had spent my whole life chasing, she got with nothing more than a flick of her hand. The night had fully settled in, and with it, the temperature plummeted. I felt frozen to the bone. One by one, the windows that had glowed warmly moments ago began to darken, and soon, the entire neighborhood was swallowed by the night. I curled up in the corner of the balcony, trying to preserve what little warmth I had left. Hunger gnawed at me, the cold seeped deeper into my skin, and a dull, throbbing pain crept back into my head. I knew I needed my medication. If I didn’t take it soon, I might pass out again, just like last night. Once, I had been lucky enough to wake up. But luck wasn’t something I could count on forever. But the pills were in the pocket of my coat. My coat was inside, and I was locked out here, with no way to get to it. Even my phone had died, shutting off completely. “When it rains, it pours,” I thought bitterly. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to focus. Nothing was more important than staying alive. Even if it meant lowering my head and admitting to something I hadn’t done. Raising my hand once more, I started knocking. In the dead of night, the sound was jarringly loud. I had no idea how long I knocked, long enough for my knuckles to swell. Even the neighbors poked their heads out, shouting at me to stop, calling me crazy. But the door to my parents’ room never opened. I wasn’t sure which hurt more—the throbbing in my hand or the pounding in my skull. I bit my lip, vision blurring with tears. It hurt. God, it hurt so much. I lifted my gaze, staring at that tightly shut door. And at last, I understood. No one was coming to save me, not even the people who were supposed to love me most. So I made a choice. I shuffled toward the edge of the balcony. Taking a deep breath, I clenched my teeth and swung a leg over the railing. Then, I jumped.
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