From the moment I became conscious in my mother's womb, a voice had been whispering lies about me.
"Please don't kill me, share some oxygen from the umbilical cord with me, I can't breathe."
I did nothing to her.
My mother, Delila Anderson, however, didn't hesitate to hurt herself, frantically pounding her belly with her fists.
"You vicious thing! What are you going to do to my precious daughter I carried with such effort?"
To protect the other fetus, Delila even went to the hospital and requested a reduction procedure to abort me, Noah Parker.
Upon learning I had inherited her allergy, she bought ten boxes of mangoes in one go -- just to let the already weak me die in the womb.
Seeing her beautiful face swollen and disfigured, covered in messy mango juice, she was still stuffing large mouthfuls of mango into her mouth.
I completely gave up the will to survive.
"Mom, don't eat anymore, I'm leaving now."
——
I clutched the umbilical cord tightly, refusing to draw any more nutrients from my mother's body -- let my sister devour me bit by bit.
Starting from my fingers, then slowly spreading to my feet, until the pain completely silenced me.
Delila was checking baby supplies with my father and said, "We can start preparing the hospital bag."
My father, Pieter Parker, asked in confusion, "You're having twins, why are you only preparing for one?"
She paused, her expression complex, but then replied, "You can keep that kid if you want, but you must discipline her strictly after she's born."
"She's inherently selfish and vicious. She'll definitely be a disaster for our family."
Hearing our mother say this, my sister, Nora Parker, immediately let out a weak cry.
"Noah, my hands and feet have just grown out, please don't bite me."
"I finally made it to Mom's side, please ...."
Delila suddenly felt as if facing an enemy and said to her husband, "Terrifying, this little bitch's jealousy is absolutely terrifying."
"Honey, you don't know, she's trying to kill our precious daughter!"
Seeing she was getting increasingly agitated, Pieter quickly tried to calm her down. "Honey, calm down."
"I didn't hear anything. You must be under too much prenatal stress."
She was so anxious that she was crying and shouting.
"My precious daughter, she’s the one I prayed for ten years, the one I sincerely begged for."
"She chose me to be her mother, so I can hear her heart's voice."
"A master predicted I was destined to have no offspring in this life and conceiving twins must be some kind of fishy."
"So, my precious baby is here to repay a debt of gratitude and her wicked sister is here to avenge a past life's grudge!"
Looking at my father half-believing and not understanding, my mother rushed into the kitchen, clutching her stomach.
Her eyes were filled with a fierce glint.
After glancing around the kitchen, she suddenly grabbed a silver fork. Then, aiming at my belly, she gestured with it over where I was sleeping.
"Good girl, tell me."
"If I stabbed that little bitch from this position, will she die?"
I froze instantly, too afraid to move.
One seeking revenge, the other repaying a debt of gratitude.
The master was indeed right. It was just that Delila was blinded by fate and made the wrong choice.
Seeing the situation was wrong, Pieter quickly rushed over to stop it.
"Even if you don't like your other daughter, you shouldn't act so impulsively."
“Think about your beloved baby. What if you hurt her?” Her hand trembled and the fork fell to the ground with a clatter.
She clutched her belly, muttering to herself. "Don't be afraid, baby. As long as I'm here, that bitch won't dare to bully you."
She turned on the stove to its highest setting and began stir-frying coarse salt.
I was jolted awake from sleep, wraggling around in a frenzy as the scorching salt packet burns through the layer of flesh.
