04
These words were incredibly familiar.
<
In my past life, I was dragged down by this
sentence, willingly letting Willow drain me of
my last bit of use.
I not only wrote Willow’s name on the
midterm but also on the final exam.
Willow consistently ranked in the top three in
the grade and became the school’s famous
smart, sickly beauty.
Because of this, Willow got a
recommendation spot for college.
And while she blossomed beautifully, free
from the worries of grades, I had to huddle in
my room, studying day and night, hoping for
the favor of the academic gods.
I’ll never forget when I had a high fever from
anxiety because my grades weren’t meeting
expectations, my parents planned to take
Willow on a trip to Hawaii.
I asked them not to go, but Dad scoffed,
“Stop being dramatic. You just can’t stand
Mom was also impatient: “Rose, you’ve
always been independent and rarely get sick.
We’ll just spend a few more days with Willow. Take care of yourself at home and don’t be
unreasonable.”
And Willow turned pale, looking pitiful: “I’m
sorry, sister. I wanted to go out with Mom and
Dad. I know you definitely want to go out and
play too, but you’re healthy and can go out
anytime. I’m always sick, so please let Mom
and Dad take me this time.”
They left without looking back.
Later, I forced myself to get up, despite my
aching body, and went to the hospital. I
stayed for three days, taking medicine and
getting injections.
The lady in the next bed looked at me with
pity, thinking I was an orphan, and often
shared her food with me.
I thanked her with a smile and didn’t deny
<
Because I was no different from an orphan.
No mom and dad to love me.
During those few days, Willow sent me many
photos-
Blue skies, white clouds, beaches, barbecues.
In front of the camera, Mom and Dad held
Willow’s hand, the three of them smiling
happily.
She said:
“Sister, with you gone, we’re a happy family!”
