Ten years ago, another girl and I were sold into the mountains. To buy me time to escape, they broke both her legs. After we were rescued, my parents took her in as their adopted daughter and treated her like their own. Because of this, they neglected me—the one suffering from severe depression. They said, “You only have depression, but Wendy lost both her legs because of you.” But Mom, Dad, you’re both psychologists. Don’t you know that people with depression don’t want to live? My hand trembled uncontrollably as I clutched my phone. The physical symptoms were getting worse—my bones itched unbearably from deep within. I’d called Mom over a dozen times. She’d hung up every single one. Her text message was ice cold too. *Nina, today is Wendy’s comingofage ceremony. Stop making a scene.* My fingers unconsciously picked at the scabbed wound. I felt no pain—only a strange, liberating pleasure. I pressed my lips together and slowly typed a reply. Okay, Mom. I’ll make dinner and wait for you and Dad to come home. They were the city’s top psychologists with countless patients. But they still made time in their busy schedules to attend Wendy’s comingofage ceremony. I wiped away my tears and staggered to my feet. With practiced ease, I wrapped gauze around my wound and pulled on a longsleeved shirt that covered everything. Layer after layer of fabric wrapped around my body felt awkward. But over time, I’d gotten used to it. I ordered lots of ingredients through a delivery app. Dad’s favorite sea bass, Mom’s favorite beef, and Wendy’s beloved salmon. I washed the blood off the knife and tucked it back into the knife block, then grabbed another knife to prep the ingredients. My phone buzzed a few times. It was a voice message from Wendy. She was as gentle as always. “Nina, Mom and Dad both came to my comingofage ceremony. Why didn’t you come?” My thoughts felt sluggish. It wasn’t until an alarm with a reminder went off on my phone that I remembered why I hadn’t gone. Because today was my comingofage ceremony too. Last night before bed, I’d been abnormally excited. I imagined what gifts Mom and Dad might prepare for me. Maybe receiving their gifts would give me just a little more will to live. I lowered my eyes and looked at the family photo Wendy had sent me. She sat in her wheelchair, her biological parents standing on the left, my mom and dad standing on the right. The four of them held up a banner. *Wishing Wendy health every year, worryfree always.* I snapped back to reality and sent her my blessing and explanation. “Wendy, happy birthday.” “I didn’t come because today is my comingofage ceremony too. Can you tell Mom and Dad for me?” “I’m waiting for them to come home for dinner.” Wendy didn’t reply. But I knew she must be crying from guilt right now, urging Mom and Dad to come home and be with me. We’d survived together, grown up side by side for ten years, connected like flesh and bone. No one understood each other better than we did. There was only one thing I’d kept from her. Her legs were broken, but she escaped that mountain village. My soul, however, remained locked there forever, unable to find peace. I shook my head, pushing away the chaotic thoughts, and focused on preparing the meal. Half an hour later, the front door opened. Several voices called my name in unison. “Nina, we’re home.” Wendy’s choked voice stood out especially. “Nina, I’m sorry, I didn’t know today was your birthday too…” I pressed down my trembling hands and poked my head out from the kitchen. Mom and Dad wheeled Wendy to the kitchen doorway. The sweet scent of chocolate cake wafted toward me. Mom cleared her throat and handed the cake to me. “Happy birthday, Nina.” The light in my eyes suddenly brightened. But the moment I touched the cake, that brightness instantly turned to deathly silence. I’d seen this cake before. In the photos Wendy sent me, this was the top tier of the beautiful, elaborate fivelayer cake.
I still put on a smile. “I’ve already made dinner. Should we eat now?” Wendy looked up, her gaze tracing over my face again and again. After confirming I really wasn’t angry, she breathed a sigh of relief and quickly grabbed my hand. “Let’s eat! Nina, you don’t know how terrible the restaurant food was.” “It’s your birthday and you still had to cook. That must have been hard.” I kept smiling, the curve of my lips unchanged. But I suddenly yanked my hand free from Wendy’s grasp, turned, and rushed into my room, slamming the door hard. The bedroom curtains were drawn tight, not letting in a sliver of light. I curled up in the corner, my whole body shaking uncontrollably. I couldn’t. I couldn’t let Wendy see me like this. Mom started pounding on the door. “Nina, you scared Wendy with your dramatics!” “Come out right now and apologize to Wendy!” I desperately pinched my palm to control myself, creating several bloody crescent marks. “I’ll be right out, Mom.” I stumbled to my nightstand and took out the gift I’d prepared for Wendy long ago. Taking several deep breaths, I opened the door. Wendy hung her head while Mom and Dad stood beside her, their expressions tense. I grinned as if nothing had happened and crouched beside Wendy. “Wendy, you love vintage things. I found this for you.” Scalding tears fell onto the back of my hand. Her voice was hoarse as she asked: “Nina, we’ve known each other for ten years, and I didn’t even remember your birthday. Are you upset with me?” I shook my head gently. “No.” If it hadn’t been for Wendy back then, I would have died long ago. Mom let out a long breath and wheeled Wendy to the dining table. Dad pulled me into the kitchen under the pretense of serving food. “Nina, I hope what happened today doesn’t happen again.” “Wendy became the way she is because of you. You shouldn’t give her the cold shoulder.” I clutched my clothes, my voice soft: “Dad, I wasn’t being cold. It’s the physical manifestation of my depression.” He frowned, his voice turning cold: “Nina, depression isn’t that easy to get. Have you been secretly reading your mother’s and my psychology books again?” I opened my mouth but didn’t know how to argue. The doorbell rang. Mom opened the door and welcomed Wendy’s parents inside. They still wore the custommade formal wear from Wendy’s ceremony, carrying a few boxes of milk and snacks. Their attitude was perfunctory and dismissive. “We didn’t realize today was Nina’s birthday too. We didn’t have time to prepare any gifts.” Mom and Dad’s smiles didn’t change one bit. They’d long grown accustomed to Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence’s dismissive attitude toward me. The person who’d caused Wendy to lose her legs had died. So naturally, the Lawrences transferred their hatred to me. I said nothing and simply brought the dishes to the table. I sat down next to Wendy. The two sets of parents chatted animatedly. Under the table, Wendy’s hand moved and hooked around my finger. Her voice was quiet: “Nina, you’re eating too little.” I leaned close to her ear and whispered my secret. “I can’t eat much right now.” Actually, that wasn’t it. It was because my depression was too severe. One more bite and I’d want to vomit. Vomiting in front of elders would be very rude. Wendy laughed at my serious tone. The parents’ conversation stopped, their eyes falling on us. Mrs. Lawrence set down her fork: “Wendy, your comingofage ceremony was ruined. How can you still be so happy?” The atmosphere instantly froze. Mom and Dad exchanged glances and tried to smooth things over with a laugh: “The kids are just whispering and laughing, it’s nothing…” “Kids?” Mrs. Lawrence scoffed. “They’re adults now. What kind of kids?” “Some things need to be said clearly. Back then, you two caused both children to be kidnapped. My daughter nearly died, but your daughter came out without a scratch!” “And you two keep showing up in front of my daughter.” Her voice suddenly rose: “You’re the culprits! You’re breaking my daughter’s heart!” The peace maintained for many years shattered in this moment. Mom and Dad’s faces went white, breaking out in cold sweat from guilt. Wendy gripped my icecold hand tightly and screamed in disbelief: “Mom, what are you saying?” Mrs. Lawrence’s eyes were icy: “Wendy, you’re softhearted, but being softhearted to everyone will only hurt you.” “From now on, we forbid you from seeing Nina again.” They ignored Wendy’s protests and wheeled her away. As the door slammed shut, I met her tearfilled eyes as she shook her head frantically. I bit the soft flesh inside my cheek and silently mouthed: “It’s okay.” Mom and Dad sat at the dining table, their faces pale as paper. Their eyes were empty, unfocused, murmuring: “Nina, you deserve this.” “This is what our family owes them.” I nodded and returned to my room, vomit and tears falling together into the trash can. If I’d died in that village, would everyone be happy?
I didn’t know when I fell asleep. In my dream, I seemed to return to that year when I was eight. A depression patient my parents had been treating jumped off a building. The patient’s family believed Mom and Dad had guided the patient to commit suicide. They wanted to make Mom and Dad experience the pain of losing a loved one too. So they found my school and kidnapped me. Wendy saw me being dragged into the car and started crying from fear. The kidnappers were afraid of being exposed, so they took her too. After several transfers, we were sold to a mountain village. The man who bought us was a single man. He treated me as a woman and treated Wendy like livestock. When Wendy went out to work in the fields, he would tie me to the bed. I don’t know how long those days lasted. I finally found a chance to knock him unconscious with something. But I was too weak—he only passed out for a moment. Wendy came home just in time and grabbed his legs to hold him back. I ran to the village entrance and happened to run into Mom and Dad, who’d followed the leads to find me. But when we went back to save Wendy, her legs were already twisted beyond recognition. Such a terrifying dream. This dream had tormented me for ten years. I woke with a start, my hands trembling as I grabbed my phone to call Wendy. She hadn’t slept either, crying until her voice was hoarse but still trying to comfort me. “Nina, don’t listen to what they said.” “It’s not your fault. You’re innocent too.” I was silent for a moment before speaking softly: “Wendy, can I come see you?” I ran as fast as I could to Wendy’s apartment building. She was struggling to wheel herself out. I rushed over and pushed her to the small garden in the residential complex. It was the middle of the night—the complex was empty. The world was so quiet, there was only us. I fumbled in my pocket and pressed my bank card with all my savings into her hand. “I know your aunt and uncle got you the latest prosthetic technology that won’t irritate your residual limbs.” She pushed it back with red eyes. I insisted on tucking it into her pocket. “Wendy, don’t refuse me.” “Our family owes your family. If it weren’t for me, you’d still be healthy.” “Just let me make it up to you, even just a little.” I crouched in front of her and gently brushed against her leg. Ten years ago, when I was thrown out like a broken rag doll, she’d cried as she placed my head on her lap. She told me everything would be okay. Now, tears streaming down her face, she tremblingly brushed my teardampened hair away from my face. “Nina, Nina, everything will get better.” The night was pitch black, but Wendy’s eyes always sparkled. I said nothing. After we’d both cried silently for a long time, a light turned on. Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence arrived, their voices trembling: “You again!” “Nina, why are you looking for my daughter in the middle of the night?” Furious, they pulled Wendy in front of them. Their voices held unbearable pain. “Wendy! You can ignore the harm she’s caused you.” “But do you know that every time you see her, our hearts ache!” “In our eyes, she’s the culprit who turned you into this! We wish she would die!” “Please don’t see her anymore, okay?” Wendy cried and shook her head. But I laughed: “Don’t worry, Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence.” “Today is the last time I’ll see Wendy.” Finally, I bent down and whispered in Wendy’s ear: “What happened in that village—never speak of it again, even until death.” With that, I turned and left decisively. Wendy’s crying and shouting scattered in the wind. I walked far away before I dared look back. My heart felt like it had a huge hole torn in it, whistling with wind. The bond we’d grown up with, connected like flesh and bone, I’d severed with my own hands. It hurt so much. It hurt even more than when the knife sliced across my wrist.
When I got home, Mom and Dad were sitting on the sofa with cold faces. I took a deep breath and put on a smile. “Mom, Dad, why aren’t you sleeping so late?” They looked at me, their eyes full of exhaustion. “Nina, what did you do?” “Do you know Wendy just threatened to kill herself?” The forced smile froze on my face, a buzzing sound filling my ears. I shook my head, my voice distant: “Mom, my depression is really bad. I just had an auditory hallucination.” “How could Wendy want to kill herself?” Mom walked up to me, her eyeballs filled with bloodshot veins. Her hand rose high and came down hard. A burning sting spread across my cheek. I heard her crying as she shouted at me: “Nina, how long are you going to keep up this act?” “Wendy was kidnapped because of us. To save you, she became disabled. We were afraid she and her family would hate you, so we did everything we could to make it up to her.” “But what did you do? You saw her once and almost drove her to death!” She covered her face and collapsed crying into Dad’s arms. Dad’s face was deathly pale, his lips trembling: “Nina, Wendy is more pitiful than you.” “I don’t care what you said to her. Come with us to the hospital right now and get on your knees to apologize to her and her parents.” “You don’t come home until they forgive you.” He reached out and grabbed my wrist, his fingertips pressing right into my wound through my sleeve. The pain brought me a strange pleasure. I suddenly laughed. Under their horrified gazes, I rolled up my sleeve a little. Just enough to reveal the wound on my wrist. “If I apologize to them, then who’s going to apologize to me?” “Mom, Dad, I have very, very severe depression. I want to die.” I said this almost woodenly. Mom cried even harder, and Dad’s face looked even worse. They pushed past me and slammed the door hard. Leaving behind only one sentence: “Playing the victim to escape responsibility again. If we’d known you’d turn out like this, we shouldn’t have rescued you in the first place.” I stood in the living room for a very, very long time. So long that the sky changed from dark to gray, and finally a piercing light appeared. The sky outside grew bright. But my sky had become eternal night. I smiled a little and moved my numb legs. I picked up the broom and mop and cleaned the entire house. When I was first rescued, I wouldn’t eat or drink, my whole person like a soulless broken doll. Mom and Dad were afraid I’d do something drastic, so they tried every way to distract me. They choked up: “Nina, if there’s anything that can make you forget those things, just do it.” “Mom and Dad don’t want to lose you.” For those words, I became obsessed with housework. Over time, the habit stuck. But this time I was exceptionally meticulous, cleaning every corner. After all, it was the last time. I put on my most presentable clothes and lay down on the bed. I opened the sleeping pills I’d prepared long ago and shoved them into my mouth by the handful. Good thing I’d prepared honey water. Otherwise, how could I swallow such bitter pills? Outside the window, clouds covered the sun. It was dark—perfect for sleeping. But as I grew drowsy, I wanted to say goodbye to them. I sent everyone a message. *Dad, I’m in so much pain right now.* *Mom, I miss you so much. You haven’t hugged me in so long.* *Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence, I’m sorry. I’m the one who hurt Wendy.* *Wendy, you guessed my illness. Don’t do anything fool…* My vision kept going black. I had no strength left. My body didn’t hurt anymore either. I felt light as a feather. Let it be like this. There’s nothing much left I want to say.
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