The moment my skin started tearing and bleeding relentlessly, that’s when my dad discovered Mom carried the Butterfly Disease gene. My dad, who treated my illness like a plague, stormed off with my healthy sister, leaving me behind. At least Mom was incredibly sympathetic towards me. She carefully padded every sharp edge in the house, staying by my side every single second. But a week later, she couldn’t overcome her hemophobia. She vanished, abandoning me just as I was starting to hope again. I knew how troublesome it was to care for someone with Butterfly Disease, so I didn’t resent my parents for leaving. At least they, with their modest income, left me our only house, so I still had a roof over my head. I secretly prayed my sister would stay healthy, hoping our already tough financial situation wouldn’t get any worse. To survive, unable to leave the house, I made money by live-streaming my art. But two years later, during an unexpected joint stream with the billionaire’s daughter, who also had Butterfly Disease, I saw my own sister on the screen. She didn’t recognize me, my face covered in bandages, and simply chatted with me as a stranger, a fellow patient. The live chat was filled with comments, marveling at the stark contrast between my sister’s pristine complexion and my own ravaged face. 【Ugh, regular people can’t afford Butterfly Disease. Just look at the difference between this girl and the billionaire’s daughter.】 【This girl has always lived alone, no wonder her condition is so much worse than the billionaire’s daughter, who’s been meticulously cared for by her parents.】 【Her parents are billionaires, and even with their daughter having Butterfly Disease, they stuck by her, taking care of her like she’s completely normal. I wish I had parents like that – truly perfect, devoted parents!】 That was the moment I realized: I wasn’t abandoned because of the Butterfly Disease. I was abandoned because I was simply unloved.
My sister on the screen showed no visible wounds. If it weren’t for the “Butterfly Disease” in her stream title and her hands wrapped in expensive silk gloves, no one would guess she suffered from this incredibly painful, rare condition. My sister kindly struck up a conversation with me: “Hi there, what a coincidence to connect with another Butterfly Disease patient. How long have you had this? Why do you have so many wounds? Are you going through a hard time? If you really are struggling, you can contact me after the stream. I might be able to help you.” But I was so dazed by the sudden truth that I couldn’t utter a single word. My sister on the other end received no reply and let out an awkward, bitter laugh. The live chat instantly filled with complaints about me: 【The heiress is so sincere and kind, why is she acting so dismissive?】 【I’ve seen plenty of people like her. She probably thinks the whole world owes her just because she’s sick.】 【The heiress is fighting this illness just like you. What right do you have to give her attitude? You deserve to be abandoned by your family for being sick!】 Watching the comments call her “heiress” over and over, then glancing at the luxurious, exquisite furniture behind my sister, A searing pain shot through every inch of my body. So, my family was rich. Billionaire rich! No wonder my parents, who’d supposedly scrimped and saved to raise my sister and me, could so decisively leave me our old, rundown apartment. It was all just a scam, meant only for me. I couldn’t stop trembling. Tears streamed down my face, blurring the hateful comments on the live chat. 【What’s with the pity act? Didn’t you ignore the heiress first?】 【She must be jealous that the heiress is doing better than her, and is also beautiful and kind-hearted.】 My sister’s anxious yet gentle voice reached my ears: “Everyone, please don’t argue on my behalf. I was too blunt and might have offended this young woman. Please don’t say anything bad about her.” After she spoke, she carefully tried to comfort me: “Are you okay? Did I remind you of something painful?” Her familiar tone brought back memories of us comforting each other in our impoverished past. Those days, which I remembered as simple but happy, when we would save up months of money from selling recyclables just to eat at KFC. We’d stay up late sharing secrets, and comfort each other after getting scolded by our parents for bad grades. But my sister, who I was so close with, had joined my parents in hiding our family’s true wealth, abandoning me, sick and alone. She could extend a helping hand to someone she thought was a stranger. Why couldn’t she do the same for her own sister? If it weren’t for this accidental stream, I might have died never knowing that my entire family had been deceiving me. I looked at my sister, her face full of concern, and spoke in a hoarse voice: “Yes, you reminded me of my sister. She and my parents despised me for being sick, so they abandoned me and ran off.” A flicker of discomfort crossed my sister’s eyes. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you had a sister and went through something like that.” The comments criticizing me also paused. 【I told you guys to be more considerate. How can you be so harsh to a sick person?】 【I wanted to say earlier, she didn’t answer the heiress because she was clearly emotional. You guys just started attacking her. Now look, you forced her to reveal something painful.】 【Exactly, the heiress started streaming to spread awareness about Butterfly Disease and help others like her. This is only the first person she connected with, and you’re already tearing her apart!】 Seeing that comment, I suddenly spoke softly: “Are you new to streaming? When were you diagnosed with this disease?” My sister was puzzled by my sudden change of topic but answered truthfully: “About six months ago. I’ve been traveling with my parents, seeking treatment. My condition has improved recently, so I thought about starting a stream.” I clenched my hands tightly. My skin instantly tore and bled, but I didn’t care at all.
The pain in my hands was nothing compared to the agony in my heart. My dad, who once treated me, covered in blood, like a plague, could now spend six months with my sister, who had the same disease, seeking treatment. And Mom, who claimed to have hemophobia and couldn’t stand being with me for more than a week, how could she now look at my sister’s blood and not faint? Not to mention my “kind” sister. She had firsthand experience of how painful Butterfly Disease was, yet in those six months, she never once thought to look for me. While she enjoyed expensive, specialized treatments, I was still foolishly believing our family had abandoned me out of poverty. My sister was startled by my appearance, unsure what I’d said to upset me this time: “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” 【Oh my god, is she having an emotional breakdown because the heiress mentioned family?】 【Didn’t she ask the question herself? Her parents weren’t even mentioned. If she’s so fragile, why even stream?】 【If I were her family, I couldn’t handle it either. Clearly, not everyone can be as strong and optimistic as the heiress, truly deserving of her family’s love.】 Reading those comments, I almost laughed until I cried. If they knew the “heiress” and I shared the same parents, would they still say such things? Hearing his daughter was upset during her stream, my dad rushed over. He looked at me, my face covered in bandages, with eyes full of disgust: “My daughter was kind enough to help you, and this is how you repay her? And you dare to say Jocelyn is like your sister? Nowadays, any random person thinks they can just lay claim to my daughter, Jocelyn Hayes. Don’t you look in the mirror? Do you even deserve to?” My heart felt numb with pain. My sister only said she wanted to help, and he blindly accused me of ingratitude. In his heart, only Jocelyn was worthy of being his daughter. I’d always known about my dad’s unconditional favoritism towards Jocelyn. It was because she looked so much like him. I, on the other hand, didn’t resemble either of my parents much, and he’d even doubted if I was his biological child. Despite DNA test results proving I was his daughter, having inherited my grandfather’s looks, my dad still harbored a strange distance. I guessed that’s why he concealed our billionaire status, using a facade of poverty to “test” me. If it made me more outstanding, great. If not, he could just keep the truth hidden forever, letting me live my life never knowing my family was a billionaire empire. The result of this “test” was that no matter how hard I tried, I could never satisfy my strict dad. Then, my skin suddenly started tearing and bleeding for no reason. At the hospital, I found out I carried the Butterfly Disease gene. It gave my dad a legitimate reason to abandon me. Even though he hadn’t recognized me, it was as if he had an instinctive aversion to me, each word more hurtful than the last. My sister tried to persuade my dad not to be so mean to me, but he sighed: “Jocelyn, not everyone is worth helping. This ghastly, monstrous creature, who streams all day to scare people, would be better off dead. You tried to help her out of kindness, and look at her attitude! Today, I’m going to make her realize the cost of messing with my daughter!” My eyes burned, but no more tears would fall. The wounds beneath my bandages ached from the moisture, blood almost staining half my face, which only fueled my dad’s disgust. “A dishonorable streamer like you, I’ll make sure the platform bans you completely!” Hearing my dad’s final verdict, despair washed over me. I knew my dad meant what he said; he would definitely get me banned. But live-streaming my art was my only means of survival. He was trying to push me to my death. Could it be that after enduring alone for so long, I still wouldn’t make it?
After Mom also left, I once considered giving up. Our impoverished family hadn’t saved any money for my treatment. The old apartment building I lived in wouldn’t sell for much, and if I sold it, I’d lose my last refuge. Instead of living a painful life with Butterfly Disease, maybe it was better to just end it. But my neighbor, Landon, my childhood best friend, forcefully took away all the sharp objects in my house, his stern voice shattering my will to die. “I haven’t given up on you! How can you give up on yourself first?” He, who had been studying abroad, resolutely applied for a leave of absence, then worked tirelessly to save money for my medical expenses. No matter how hard or exhausting it was, he never, not for a single moment, thought about giving up on me, just as he’d said that day. I had only helped him a few times when his parents died, hiding it from my family, and that’s how we first connected. Hurt by my family’s blatant favoritism, and he, having lost his own family, we found solace in each other’s company, licking our wounds, each other’s only friend. But I never imagined he would go to such lengths for me. Encouraged by him, I regained my spirit and, a year ago, found a way to support myself by live-streaming my art. Landon, reassured by my promise, finally felt at ease returning to his studies abroad. Before he left, he told me to wait for him. To keep that promise, I silently endured the pain of my skin tearing again and again, striving to stay alive. But now, my only means of livelihood was about to be cut off by my blood relatives. 【Support the billionaire dad in backing up the heiress! This woman has so much inexplicable malice towards the heiress, she’s clearly an ungrateful snake!】 【Just ban her already, her face covered in blood is really unsettling. If you’re sick, don’t come out to annoy people, okay?】 【Exactly, look how optimistic our heiress is, unlike her, all gloomy and depressing, just looking at her makes you irritated.】 The live chat, which had calmed down, was now reignited with anger towards me by my dad’s words. The screen filled with curses, stinging my eyes, and my rationality wavered. Was I wrong to try and live? I was just quietly painting my art. My sister was the one who insisted on connecting with me. Why, when I had finally managed to endure until now, to barely support myself through the torment of this disease, did they have to come and crush my hope? I really wanted to keep my promise to Landon. But now, it seemed I wouldn’t be able to wait for him to return. The skin on my face, which I hadn’t had time to pay attention to, repeatedly tore and bled. My head was growing heavy. But I, in a self-destructive way, listened to and watched my dad and the live chat’s vicious words, letting my blood drain away. I really couldn’t hold on any longer. What was the point of persisting in such a painful life? Landon, I’m so sorry, I’m going to break my promise. Just then, a familiar, warm voice echoed from the other side of the screen: “Stop talking! Why are you doing this to her!”
I stared at Mom on the screen, unable to process it for a long time. She saw the bloodstains on me and merely frowned in distress. She didn’t, as in my memories, clutch her head and feel dizzy the moment she saw my skin tear and bleed. Sure enough, she was acting too, deceiving me. Were all those years of her boundless affection and care for me, from childhood to adulthood, also fake? I couldn’t help but recall Mom’s kindness. Her strictness and patience when tutoring me, the warm milk that appeared on my desk every night; Her open arms when I looked enviously at my sister in Dad’s embrace; Among the table full of dishes my sister loved, that one constant, my favorite, scrambled eggs with tomatoes. I used to think that even if Dad left with my sister, Mom would never abandon me. But she not only left but also helped them keep me in the dark until now. “She’s also a Butterfly Disease patient, don’t make it so hard on her!” Mom shed tears of sorrow, looking at me with a hint of guilt: “If we didn’t have the billionaire’s wealth, our daughter might end up just like her. Why are you being so cruel?” Then why, knowing this would happen, did you leave me? Tears fell again, mixing with blood and dripping onto my clothes, making them look even more horrifying. Mom quickly tried to comfort me: “I apologize on behalf of my husband. Please don’t be sad, okay? Don’t be afraid, if you want to continue streaming your art, that’s fine. The platform will definitely not ban you. And, we’ll cover the medical expenses for this flare-up as compensation. Would that be acceptable?” The gentler her comforting words were, the more disgusted I felt. The hatred bursting forth from my eyes reignited my dad’s and the live chat’s anger, which had just begun to calm.
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