Too Late to Love Me

I died on the day I won the Global Medical Doctorate Award.

Fresh from celebrating the sixteenth birthday of my younger sister, my parents, brother, and my fiancé finally returned home, but it was three hours after my death.

My family photos were beaming with happiness on social media, while I laid in the suffocating basement drenched in blood.

Before I died, I had struggled to slide my tongue across my phone screen in a desperate attempt to call for help.

My parents and brother had blocked my number. Only my fiancé answered my call.

The moment his voice came through, he snapped, "Winona, Winnie's sixteenth birthday is important. Stop trying to hijack attention with your pathetic excuses. Enough with the theatrics!"

It murdered my last spark of survival. In that electronic death rattle, my heart flatlined.

The 100th time they chose her. The 100th time they abandoned me for her. But it was also the last time.

They thought I had ran way to get their attention again, and that if they taught me a harsh lesson, I would come crawling back pathetically.

But not this time.

Because I didn't leave home. I had been lying in the basement of my house.

My soul drifted from the cold basement floor at midnight.

The door of my bedroom was flung open, and my brother, Xavier Laith, barged in. He scanned the empty room and laughed mockingly.

"Winona, aren't you sick of playing hide-and-seek? You're too old for this nonsense," he said.

Usually, I would have snapped back.

However, I could only float past him in silence.

Xavier tried to call me, but no one answered. He rubbed his hair frustratingly, then flipped open the diary on my desk.

There was a number on there: 99.

That was how many times they had disappointed me over the years.

Xavier did not understand. He frowned and tossed the dairy to the floor.

He muttered while recording a voice message, "Stop throwing a tantrum. Winnie is still waiting for the blueberry cheesecake you promised to bake. It's her sixteenth birthday, so you better be home in an hour, or else…"

He put his phone aside and went to the living room.

"Winona is not in her room, and she won't answer my call. She always does this, she throws a tantrum, disappears, so we'll beg her to come back," he told our parents.

My dad, Zach Laith, sighed and replied, "We spoiled her. Leave her alone this time. She'll be back tomorrow."

My gentle younger sister, Winnie Laith, tugged at the hand of my dad. She was full of worry when she said, "Dad, what if something happened? Maybe I should text her. You know she has always been kind to me."

I watched her text quickly.

She typed out the first message.

[Hope you enjoy the attention of those thugs. Which man's arms are you in now? You'll do us all a favor if you die.]

Then, she immediately deleted the text and replaced it with another.

[Are you okay, Winona? We're all so worried. You can blame me or hit me if you're angry, just please come home. Mom and Dad are worried sick.]

She held her phone up for everyone to see, so she appeared like the most loving sister.

My mother, Grace Laith, pulled her close and said, "Winnie, you're so considerate even when you're only sixteen. Winona is 24 years old, but she's still spoiled and rotten. This is not your fault."

'Spoiled? Rotten?' I wondered.

I laughed bitterly, but no one heard me.

They did not remember that it was the day for me to receive the Global Medical Doctorate Award. It was given only once every two years. I chose to say nothing because it was also her birthday, and let them celebrate.

I had never wanted to compete for their love.

I was leaving the house to accept the award. Suddenly, several men barged in and dragged me to the basement.

I struggled in terror and asked, "How did you have the house keys?"

One of the men dangled a keychain before me. It belonged to Winnie.

"Stop struggling," he said while he smirked sinisterly.

I begged and cried, "I won't tell anyone. Please let me go…"

However, they ignored me, mocked me, violated me, and took photos.

I resisted with all I had. The back of my head smashed against the table in the midst of chaos. There was blood everywhere.

They panicked and fled, and left me to die in the pool of blood.

I crawled with fingers smeared in blood and dialed for help.

My parents refused to answer. They only sent a text message.

[Pretending to be sick again? We don't have time for this!]

Only Ian Zander, my lover, whom I once trusted, picked up.

"Help me, Ian… I can't…" I begged.

However, he replied with an unfriendly voice.

"Stop pretending, Winona. It's Winnie's sweet sixteenth birthday today. She only gets this once in her life. Do you have to ruin it for her? I promised to make it up to you with a gift."

I laughed weakly as I thought, 'Make it up to me?'

There would never be a chance for Ian to make it up to me again.

The basement would stink of decay after twenty-four hours.

Winnie once wished for my death, so no one would compete with her for love and glory.

Her wish finally came true.