Thank you for capturing me at my best.
The cold wind lashed against my wounds, each gust like a blade cutting into my skin. I pulled my frostbitten hands into my sleeves and crouched in the corner by the wall, wrapping my arms around myself, too afraid to keep watching the scene unfold.
As my consciousness began to fade, the sharp cracks of fireworks coming from the yard startled me awake.
“When did you get back? Why are you crouching here instead of coming inside? Oh, don’t say you are trying to fake another sickness.”
Everett stood over me, his face twisted with disdain. The moment he saw me stir, he took a quick step back, as if even standing too close might somehow tainted him.
I shook my head slightly, trying to clear the dizziness that lingered.
When I didn't answer, Everett sneered, assuming I was scheming. “Pathetic faker. First, you say your stomach hurts. Now what? Your head hurt? If you’re going to die, do it somewhere else. I don’t want to have to deal with your stinking corpse. Gosh, you’re such a jinx!”
His words hit me like a dagger to the chest.
I looked at his eyebrows and eyes, which looked exactly like mine and let out a bitter mumble, “I'm not faking, Everett. Can you trust me for once?”
My voice was quiet, laced with cautious hope and desperate pleading.
For a moment, maybe moved by my expression, Everett hesitated. He even took a step closer. But before he could speak, Erica's voice cut through the air behind him.
“Everett, the fireworks are almost out. Mom and Dad want you to get more. Oh, Evangeline, when did you get back? Did you have fun? Staying out all night with your friends and losing track of time, huh?”
Everett froze mid-step and quickly retreated a few steps. His expression shifted into one of contempt. “Nice performance. You almost had me. Pathetic!”
With a switch in his demeanor, Everett turned to Erica and reply, “Wait here. I’ll go get more fireworks in the storage.”
Pain flared up again in my chest, making me wince. Then I heard Erica letting out a scoff.
“Your family doesn't care about you. Even your fiancé left you. No one care about you. So why don’t you just die? Do you think Mom, Dad and Everett will still care when they find out you have cancer?”
I forced myself to focus through the pain when I heard footsteps crunching in the snow. I looked up and Erica was already standing in front of me. Her sweet and friendly expression was gone, replaced by pure hatred.
“Mom told me about your stomach cancer, but you know what? She thinks that you're faking it,” she said, her voice dripping with disdain.
My fingers went numb as a mix of sadness and anger shattered whatever control I had left.
Before I knew what was happening, Erica collapsed to the ground. Tears streamed down her face as she clutched her cheek, wailing, “Mom! Dad!”
“I just wanted to talk to Evangeline and tell her to stop pretending to be sick and making you sad. But she pushed me! Why did you do that?”
A sharp slap landed on my cheek, snapping my head to the side. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.
“How dare you hit Erica? Who do you think you are, harming my precious daughter?” my mother shouted, her eyes blazing with rage and disgust.
“What kind of behavior is this? This is not acceptable in this house!” my father exclaimed, pulling Erica into his arms. His gaze was filled with disbelief and disappointment as he held her tightly.
I hung my head, stunned into silence. I couldn’t find the words to defend myself. Before I could say anything, Everett grabbed me by the arm and dragged me down the hall, throwing me to the floor. The pain in my heart was worse than the physical ache in my body.
I wanted to explain it, to defend myself, but it felt like something was lodged in my throat, keeping me from speaking. Meanwhile, my mother turned to Erica, gently holding her hand and caressing her cheek. As she comforted her adopted daughter, her anger and hatred for me flowed freely.
“I regret ever bringing you back,” she said, her voice full of bitter rage. “I should have known that someone raised in a bad place would grow up to be the same. Look at you—attacking your own sister!”
“And I’m sure you're lying about having cancer just to get Erica out of this house. Isn't' that right? If she hadn’t warned us to double-check your medical report, we would’ve all fallen for your lies!”
My dad and Everett stood on either side of Erica, both concerned. My father was rubbing ointment on her hand, while Everett reassured and comforted her.
