After I Swallowed the Whole Bottle, Mom Begged Me to Wake Up

When I was four, Julian and I were kidnapped together.

To protect my little brother, I ended up with a broken leg that never healed right.

When the police finally found us, Julian was crying, curled up in my arms.

I forced myself to stand straight through the agonizing pain and smiled at my mother. "Mom, look... Julian is safe..."

I thought as long as Julian was okay, Mom would be happy. She loved him the most, after all.

Instead, Mom slapped me hard across the face.

"You truly are a monster!" she shrieked. "Did you think that by losing your brother, we would only love you?"

From that day on, the only thing left in Moms eyes when she looked at me was cold disgust.

Mom threw grand, lavish birthday parties for Julian every year.

But on my birthday, I was locked in the dark basement.

"Do you really think you deserve to celebrate? A wicked thing like you should just rot!"

Mom would gently take Julians hand and walk away.

"Only Julian is my sweet boy. You are Mommy's pride and joy."

If I became her pride, would she love me too?

I locked myself in the music room, practicing piano day and night without sleep. Finally, I won the prestigious full-tuition scholarship spot for the Vienna Conservatory prep program.

But even though I was the one who won it, Julian was the one they sent.

Mom, it hurts... and I feel a little empty inside...

The doctor said I have terminal stomach cancer. I guess I'll just let Julian have the spot.

But Mom, how do I become your pride?

I'm so tired. Everything hurts. I just want to sleep...

In my dreams, Mom loved me so much. She held me close, crying, telling me how sorry she was...

On the day I was diagnosed with terminal stomach cancer,

my brother, Julian, was sitting in a first-class cabin flying to Vienna. He was going to perform in a piano competition that should have been mine.

Ever since the kidnapping, Mom had blamed me for everything.

At first, Dad tried to speak up for me. But Mom would shield Julian like a wild lioness protecting her cub, screaming hysterically at Dad:

"Because of her, Julian was traumatized! He has severe PTSD! The doctor said it could affect him for the rest of his life! I will not let Julian suffer even a second of discomfort because of her!"

So, I endured it. Until I turned fifteen, and the diagnosis came. Terminal stomach cancer.

My legs felt like cotton wool as I limped back home.

My stomach felt like it was holding a block of icecold, hard, and sharp, constantly stabbing into my insides.

In my pocket, the thin medical report was warm, soaked with the cold sweat from my palms.

The doctor had told me to notify my family immediately and get admitted to the hospital.

I gripped the paper, hesitating for a long time. In the end, I decided to tell them in person.

I needed their help. This time, I really couldn't hold on by myself.

I pushed the door open. The living room was warm and brightly lit. Dad, Mom, and Julian were sitting on the couch together.

They looked like a perfect, happy family, laughing at something on the TV.

The moment the door opened, the smile on Moms face vanished. It was replaced by instant, unfiltered disgust.

"Chloe, you finally decided to show up? Do you know what time it is? I told you to go to the school and pick up Julians performance suit. Where the hell did you go?"

My hand tightened around the diagnosis sheet in my pocket. "I... I wasn't feeling well. I had to go to the hospital..."

"The hospital? What kind of game are you playing now?"

Mom stood up, walked over, and looked down at me with a sneer. "Oh, I get it. You see Julian going to Vienna, so you feel bitter. Now you're faking an illness to steal his spotlight and get attention?"

Dad frowned slightly and spoke up. "Eleanor, that's enough. She just got home. Let's talk nicely."

"Talk nicely?"

Mom's voice spiked. "What is there to talk about with her? Arthur, look at her miserable, gloomy face! It's bad luck! Julian is about to perform on the biggest stage of his life. Cant she just let us have one peaceful day?"

Julian stood up from the couch, walking over to Mom's side. He looked at me with pure disdain. "Chloe, cut it out. You do this every single time. Aren't you tired of this act?"

Inside my pocket, my nails tore right through the paper.

The sharp pain in my stomach grew worse, like a thousand needles stabbing me at once.

Looking at their three cold, familiar faces, I felt my knees buckling.

In utter despair, I used every ounce of my remaining strength to whisper words that felt foreign even to my own ears:

"Mom... I'm dying..."

The living room fell dead silent for a second.

Then, Mom let out a sharp, mocking laugh. There was no warmth in her eyes.

"Dying? Good," she pointed at the front door, her voice dripping with venom. "Then go die somewhere else. Don't do it in this house. You'll ruin my expensive carpets. You're nothing but an eyesore!"

Dads lips parted, but he closed them. He turned his head away, sighing. "Chloe, stop throwing tantrums. Go to your room. Don't ruin Julians mood."

I looked at them and smiled. But large, hot tears rolled down my cheeks.

Right. How could I forget? I didn't even have the right to be sick in this house. How could I deserve to die in front of them?

I turned around, dragging my heavy legs, and went up to my small attic bedroom.

Deep inside my closet, there was a locked wooden box.

I unlocked it with the key I kept under my pillow. Inside were all my "treasures."

A fountain pen Dad gave me for my tenth birthday.

The only gold star sticker my kindergarten teacher had ever awarded me.

And a crescent-shaped white seashell I found on the beach when I was five.

I took the crumpled diagnosis sheet and placed it inside the box, right next to those treasures.

The doctors words echoed in my head: "Kid, you came too late.

The cancer has already metastasized... Surgery won't do much now. Chemotherapy might prolong your life a little, but the process will be extremely painful... Still, I suggest you inform your family and get admitted."

Prolonging my life... would be extremely painful.

And my family wanted me to die somewhere else.

I looked at the glass of cold water on my desk. Quietly, I pulled out the bottle of strong painkillers the doctor had prescribedthe ones with severe side effects. I poured the entire contents into my palm.

Mom, I won't annoy you anymore.

This time, I'll do exactly what you want.

The sweet coating of the pills started melting against my sweaty palm, feeling sticky.

I threw my head back and swallowed them all, wash down with the cold water, like swallowing handfuls of candy.

There was no bitterness. Just a numb, mechanical sensation.

Very quickly, my stomach began to burn like fire. It was a violent, tearing pain, worse than anything I had ever felt before.

Mom always said taking medicine makes the pain go away. But I took the whole bottle. Why did it hurt so much?

I collapsed onto my desk, my body curling into tight spasms. Cold sweat instantly soaked my thin school uniform.

I bit my bottom lip hard, refusing to let out a single sound.

Downstairs, the front door clicked shut. Then came the sound of the car engine revving.

The three of them were leaving for the airport.

They were heading to the grand, glorious hall that belonged to Julian.

While I was left behind in this freezing, dark room, walking toward death all by myself.

My phone screen lit up. It was an Ins post from Mom.

In the photo, the airport's VIP lounge was brightly lit and luxurious.

Mom was holding Dads arm, smiling elegantly and happily.

Julian stood between them, wearing a perfectly tailored little tuxedo, making a peace sign at the camera.

The caption read: "Leaving all the bad luck behind! Off we go! Pre-congratulations to my little pianist. Play your heart out at the Golden Hall! You are Mommy's eternal pride!"

"My pride... leaving the bad luck behind..."

So, I was the bad luck.

That spot in Vienna was supposed to be mine.

I had played piano since I was six. Day and night, I practiced until my fingertips bled. I would wrap them in tape and keep playing.

Meanwhile, Julian only sat at the piano when he was in a good mood.

Our school only had one spot for the program. At the auditions, I played "La Campanella", a piece I had practiced thousands of times.

All the judges gave me the highest score.

But when the final list came out, the name on it was Julian Carter.

I had run to the music teacher to ask why. He avoided my gaze, stammering, "Chloe, this was... a decision made by the school board after looking at the overall picture."

I ran home and, for the first time in my life, yelled at Mom. "Why? Why did you steal my spot?"

Mom was packing Julian's bags. She didn't even look up. Her tone was completely casual. "What do you mean 'steal'? You're the older sister. Isn't it normal to let your brother have it?"

"Julian needs this opportunity to rebuild his confidence. It's good for his PTSD. You owe him this."

"Besides, your brother is naturally more talented than you. It would be a waste to send you."

...At that moment, I realized my entire life was a joke.

The burning pain in my stomach flared up again. A thick, copper taste rushed up my throat.

I clamped my hand over my mouth and forced the blood back down.

I couldn't throw up.

If I threw up, I might survive, and then they'd have to spend money on getting my stomach pumped.

Mom always said I was a burden.

I didn't want to burden them anymore.

The sky slowly darkened, and the city lights outside began to flicker.

I heard Thomas, our butler, calling from downstairs. "Miss Chloe, dinner is ready. Please come down and eat something."

Using the last bit of my energy, I called back, "Thomas, I'm really tired. I think I'll just sleep tonight. Don't wait up."

"Alright, Miss Chloe. I'll leave some warm food in the kitchen for you. Eat whenever you feel hungry."

There was a hint of worry in Thomas's voice.

The sharp pain in my stomach began to fade into a cold numbness.

I was so cold. So sleepy.

I slid off the desk chair, crawling onto my small bed with the last of my strength, pulling the blanket over my head.

It was pitch black under the covers, just like the basement Mom used to lock me in.

But I wasn't afraid of the dark anymore.

Once I fell asleep, it wouldn't hurt.

Once I fell asleep, no one would ever have to worry about me again.

My mind started to drift. "Dad, Mom, it really hurts. The pills didn't taste like anything. They weren't good."

"If I fall asleep, will you guys, on the other side of the world, ever think about the daughter you left behind?"

Morning came.

My stomach didn't hurt anymore. My body felt incredibly light, like a breath of invisible air.

I floated up from the bed.

Whoa. People really can fly.

I floated up to the ceiling, looking down at my small bed. Under the blanket was the thin, still shape of "me."

She was sleeping so deeply. Even her brow was completely relaxed.

"Miss Chloe, it's time to wake up for school! You'll be late!"

Thomas called from downstairs. After a while, he called again.

Hearing no answer, he walked up the stairs, worried, and knocked gently on my door.

"Miss Chloe? Are you awake?"

I floated right in front of him, waving my hands. "Thomas, good morning! I'm awake!"

But he couldn't see me. He couldn't hear my voice. He just stared anxiously at the closed door.

He hesitated, but decided not to push the door open. He turned and went back downstairs.

A little later, Dad called.

Thomas answered it on speakerphone.

"Thomas, where is Chloe? Put her on."

Dads voice sounded tired. There was a lot of noise in the background.

"Mr. Carter, Miss Chloe is... still asleep. I called her a few times, but she didn't answer."

On the other end, Dad was silent for a few seconds. Then came an annoyed sigh. "That girl is getting more and more undisciplined. Forget it.

Just tell her Julian's performance was a huge success. The whole crowd gave him a standing ovation. He really made the Carter family proud! We'll bring her a souvenir when we get back."

Then I heard Moms sharp, smug voice in the background: "Why bother telling her? She's probably eating her heart out with jealousy! Just let her sleep. Out of sight, out of mind!"

Julian's voice joined in, filled with arrogant excitement. "Dad, Mom, don't worry about her. Hurry up! We're going to that three-star Michelin restaurant!"

The call cut off.

Thomas stood in the empty living room, holding the phone. His white hair looked exceptionally bright in the morning sun.

He looked up toward my room and let out a long, heavy sigh.

I really wanted to tell them that I wasn't jealous.

"I'm right here! I turned into a little flying fairy!"

But no matter how loud I screamed, they didn't react.

The sunlight streamed through the window, warm and bright.

But I couldn't feel any of it. I felt completely cold.

Mom, I wasn't trying to throw a tantrum.

I really did wake up.

I've been floating here for so long. Can't you see me?

Its just that the "me" lying on the bed... she was too tired. She didn't want to wake up anymore.

In the afternoon, my school called.

Thomas answered it again.

"Hello, is this Chloe's parent? This is her homeroom teacher, Mrs. Gable. Chloe didn't show up for school today. Is she sick?"

Thomas looked at the family portrait hanging on the wall and hesitated. "Ah... yes, she's not feeling well today. She's resting at home."

In the photo, Dad and Mom were holding a beaming Julian. I was standing on the very edge of the frame, my smile stiff and forced.

On the other end, Mrs. Gable went quiet for a moment. Then she lowered her voice. "Is Mr. Carter there? I think it's better if I tell you this directly.

About the scholarship spot to Vienna... During the auditions, several judges actually agreed that Chloe played much better. But..."

"Her mother came to the school personally. She said Julian needed this to overcome his psychological trauma, and asked the school to give the spot to him."

"Sigh, Chloe is a good kid... but her spirit has been very low since then. Her test grades have dropped significantly. She's a proud girl with high self-esteem, and we're all very worried about her."

"I understand. Thank you, Mrs. Gable," Thomas said, his voice sounding incredibly heavy.

After hanging up, the massive house fell into a graveyard silence.

Thomas sat on the couch for a long, long time. Finally, he picked up the phone and dialed Dads number in Europe.

It rang for a while before Dad picked up. The background was filled with loud music and clinking glasses.

"Thomas? What is it? I'm busy here," Dad said, sounding annoyed.

Thomas repeated everything Mrs. Gable had just said, word for word.

There was a long silence on the other end.

After what felt like forever, Dad spoke, his voice suddenly sounding exhausted. "I... I see. Go... go check on Chloe. Don't let her stay locked up. Take her out for a nice meal."

But before he could finish, Mom's sharp voice cut in over the line: "Arthur, what do you mean by that? Are you blaming me? Was I wrong to do that for Julian?"

"Julian is the future of our family! Chloe is just petty and jealous! She can't even handle a little setback like this? How is she going to survive in the real world?"

"Don't pamper her! Let her reflect on her behavior! I want to see how long she can keep up this attitude!"

The call disconnected again.

I floated next to Thomas, looking at the deep sadness and pity etched into his wrinkled face. My heart ached.

Mom, I didn't want to make you feel guilty.

I only wished that, just once, you could have believed in my talent the way you believed in Julian's.

Just once. That would have been enough.

By evening, Thomas had made a bowl of my favorite seafood pasta. He walked up to my room.

He stood at the door for a long time before finally pushing it open.

He set the bowl on my nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed.

Looking at the small shape under the blanket, he sighed softly.

"Miss Chloe, I know you feel wronged. It's Mr. and Mrs. Carter's fault. They... they are just more worried about the young master."

"Don't be angry with them. It's not worth ruining your health over. Come on, sit up and eat some pasta. It's still hot."

He reached out, wanting to pat my head, but his hand hovered in the air before gently resting on the blanket, patting it softly.

"Tomorrow... tomorrow, Thomas will take you to the amusement park. We won't tell them."

His back looked so lonely.

"Thomas, I'm not angry anymore."

"But I don't think I can go to the amusement park tomorrow."

...

Dad and Mom finally came back from Vienna with Julian.

The house was incredibly lively today. Nana, Papa, Grandma, and Grandpaeveryone was here.

They brought piles of presents, their faces glowing with joy.

I suddenly remembered. Today was Julian's birthday.

Mom used to say that both Julian and I were precious gifts from heaven.

Later, she said I was a curse sent to punish her, and Julian was her only true angel.

In the living room, Julian was wearing a custom white suit. His hair was perfectly styled. He looked like an elegant little prince.

Everyone crowded around him, praising his piano skills, saying he brought glory to the Carter family, and talking about how he looked more like a proper heir every day.

Mom had a genuine, beautiful smile on her facethe kind I hadn't seen in years. It was so warm, so gentle.

This was nice. Mom was finally smiling.

As long as I wasn't around, she could be this happy.

Nana handed Julian a massive, limited-edition Lego set and casually looked around. "By the way, where is Chloe?"

The smile on Moms face instantly froze. Her tone turned icy.

"Don't bring her up. Who knows what kind of tantrum she's throwing now. She's been locked in her room 'sleeping' for days. Having her out here on a happy day like this would only ruin the mood!"