When I was seven, Dad brought home a girl and told me to treat her like my own sister. Later, I found out she was the child of his late "white moonlight" (first love). After that day, Dad's gaze never fell on me again. My "sister" was in poor health, so Dad spent most of his time at the hospital. Even when Mom passed away, he couldn't make it back to see her one last time. He apologized to me: "If you're angry, take it out on Dad. Don't blame your sister, she's not well." In the past, I would have turned the world upside down. This time, I just looked at the father and daughter indifferently: "As long as she's okay." 1 Mom's funeral ended. Dad cried until he was a tearful mess; it took several people to pull him up. Long after returning home, he was still holding a box, lost in thought. That was the first gift he ever gave Mom, a box she couldn't bear to throw away. Seeing me enter, he hurriedly got up and ran towards me, almost tripping: "Did your mother leave any words for me?" I glanced at Sarah, who stood timidly behind him, and shook my head: "Mom left in great pain, she couldn't say anything." Dad noticed my gaze, shifted his steps slightly, and subtly shielded Sarah. Even so, he was still worried and added: "Dad is sorry to you, this is all Dad's fault. If you're angry, take it out on Dad, don't blame your sister, she's not well." There were still faint scars on his arm, made by me. My reputation for being rebellious and unfilial was known far and wide; I would get physical with my own father at the drop of a hat. And my dad was known as a good man, gentle, considerate, never even speaking a harsh word to anyone. Everyone's eyes were telling me, go ahead and make a scene, just like usual, find a handy tool and smash it at them. But this time, I only felt exhausted. I understood why Mom told me before she left not to make trouble like before, that it would be very tiring. She had been tired for over a decade and didn't want me to be like her. She wanted me to walk out, leave here, leave that home. "As long as Sarah is okay." Dad's eyes widened, seemingly in disbelief. I turned around holding Mom's portrait and went into my room, closing the door. Over the years, to treat Sarah's illness, the family's savings were almost gone. The house was sold, the car was sold, and the current home was rented for us by my uncle. Sarah's illness was almost cured, but my mom passed away because there was no money for timely treatment. In the afternoon, I went out and dyed my eye-catching red hair black, and combed up my heavy bangs. I wandered the streets for a while, not knowing where to go, and went to the cemetery again. I wanted Mom to see, she liked me looking well-behaved and spirited the most. When I returned, Dad was cooking, and Sarah was helping on the side. The two were talking about something, their faces beaming with smiles. Sarah even posted a moment on social media: [I have the best dad in the world.] The accompanying picture was a beautiful dress. I casually liked it, and the post was deleted very quickly. Sarah looked at me, her small face pale. Dad hurriedly walked over to explain: "Emily, she... she couldn't wear dresses before because of her illness, just commemorating it, don't be angry." "It looks nice." The two looked at each other, confused. I sat at the dinner table: "What's for dinner tonight?" Sarah hurriedly brought the dishes out, surprised: "Sister dyed her hair back?" Only then did Dad notice: "Why did you think of dyeing your hair black?" I shrugged: "The school doesn't allow students to have red hair." Before, I always went against Sarah. She liked wearing white, I wore black. She was well-behaved and sensible, I was rebellious and flashy. I wanted to be different from this good child in everything. I thought, this way Dad would definitely see me, blame me, scold me, right? After all, before Sarah came, he devoted all his efforts to educating me, giving me everything he could. But no, he never scolded me for this. Actually, he never noticed my changes. His eyes only fell on Sarah, so I bullied Sarah, putting cigarette ash in her cup, deliberately spilling soup on her white clothes. Sure enough, Dad got angry and hit me for the first time. Mom had a huge fight with him because of this. Sarah was scared into an episode, and Dad took Sarah away from home for half a year. Finally, it was my uncle who came to mediate and took Mom to apologize before he came back. At night, I got up to drink water and found Dad hadn't slept yet. He was sitting on the sofa mending clothes, Sarah's school uniform. "Emily? Up for water?" "Mm." He held the clothes somewhat awkwardly: "Dad will mend yours after finishing Sarah's." "I mended mine." His eyes widened, staring at me motionlessly. Before, I would throw the clothes directly on his head, ordering him to mend them for me. If they weren't torn, I would deliberately tear them. Whatever Sarah had, I had to have too. I thought by making a fuss, I would get it. Now, I don't care anymore. After drinking water, I went in to study. I promised Mom I would get into college. 2 Over the past few years, I had fallen behind too much in my studies, and the teachers had given up on me. Fortunately, I called the teacher just now to ask about homework. Seeing the sake of my late mother, she told me kindly and suggested I buy some basic workbooks to start from the simplest. The next day at school, classmates and teachers were surprised to see me like this. The homeroom teacher nodded: "Look how spirited you look now. Before you looked like a little delinquent, what was good about that?" I stood up and bowed to apologize to the teachers: "Before, I was ignorant and caused trouble for all the teachers. I will study hard in the future." If it weren't for my mom repeatedly going to the school to plead with teachers and leaders, I would have probably been expelled long ago. I did these things to get Dad's attention, but it only implicated Mom. He never came once. Many classmates thought I was from a single-parent family. The teacher even made a special home visit to help me. As a result, seeing that I was actually sisters with the model student Sarah, she sighed helplessly: "Growing up in the same family, how can there be such a big difference?" Dad hurriedly pulled Sarah to pour water for the teacher, humbly and flatteringly saying: "Our Sarah is in poor health, we still have to trouble the teacher to take care of her at school." Mom and I stood silently aside. When Mom left, she left me some money. It was the college fund she had saved for me over the years. I signed up for online courses and studied like crazy for a month. My grades finally weren't so infuriating. Sarah's birthday arrived too. It was her eighteenth birthday, and Dad meant to organize a good one. However, our family had no money to eat out. He cooked himself and asked Sarah to invite friends to play at home. Mom's portrait was still hanging in the house; her "first seven days" (mourning period) hadn't even passed. The kitchen was full of ingredients Dad prepared, all Sarah's favorites. "Sarah can't eat spicy food." Seeing me chopping Thai chili peppers, he said. I ignored him and continued chopping. He suddenly walked over, grabbed my hand, and snatched the knife away: "I told you, Sarah can't eat spicy food. She just recovered from her illness. What do you want to do?" He shouted a few sentences and wasn't satisfied, then earnestly educated me: "It's your sister's eighteenth birthday today. Let's not make trouble, okay? Can we let her have a happy birthday? Consider it Dad begging you." What about my eighteenth birthday? My eighteenth birthday was spent in the hospital with Mom. He didn't even say happy birthday. It wasn't until the next day when he saw the cake bag in the ward that he remembered and made up for it with a gift bought casually at the hospital entrance. "Sister." Sarah screamed, "Your hand." Only then did I feel a burning pain in my palm. Blood flowed down my fingertips to the floor. My palm was cut by the knife with a thin and long slit. Not deep, but a lot of blood gushed out. Dad was startled and hurriedly threw the knife on the cutting board. "Emily, Dad didn't mean to." His voice trembled a little, looking at my face carefully, "Dad will take you to the hospital to bandage it right now." I pushed his hand away: "It's Sarah's birthday today." His movement stopped. "I'll go by myself. It's not serious anyway." After speaking, I took my phone and ID card and walked out of that home. I didn't see Dad looking at my back for a long time at the door, murmuring: "Has Emily changed?" 3 I didn't go to the hospital, just found a pharmacy and bandaged it myself. Then I went to the bookstore, bought test papers, and started working on them. I got seven out of ten questions wrong. Angry, I slammed my injured hand on the table, the pain almost making me jump up and scream. "Even if you self-harm, you still won't know it. It's an IQ problem." I turned my head and saw Lucas Reed sitting behind me. He curled his lip and smiled maliciously: "It's really rare to see you here." He is the academic god. Before, I never felt how amazing he was. But a few days ago, the teacher proudly announced that he got full marks in math again. And me, thirty points. Thinking of this, my eyes couldn't help but fill with adoration. "Hehe, we'll meet often here in the future." He shrank back: "Whoever you are, get out of Emily's body quickly." I wasn't angry at all, brazenly moved quickly to his side: "Teach me." He glanced casually: "Choose B." "Why?" "Can only choose B." Me: "..." All afternoon, I forgot my injured hand and almost gave the academic god a heart attack in the library. When it was getting dark, I packed up to go home. Lucas had a dark face. The moment he walked out of the library, he said hatefully: "I hope I never meet someone as stupid as you again in this life." "Hehe." He stepped back a few steps in fright: "What? Don't even think about it." My eyes reddened instantly: "You know, my mom just passed away. Her biggest wish was..." "Okay, okay, okay." He raised his hands in surrender. "If you're not afraid of being humiliated and scolded by me, I have nothing to be afraid of." "Thank you, thank you." I excitedly held his hand, "My mom will definitely come to thank you personally from the netherworld." "Thank Auntie for me, personally is really not necessary." The bus came, I ran over quickly, and sincerely thanked him again. This afternoon, I suffered the most insults since birth. Lucas is smart, studies well, looks good, and comes from a good family, but has almost no pursuers because his mouth is too poisonous. However, amidst the scolding, I completed a test paper for the first time. Turns out, doing problems can also be so fulfilling. When I went back, Sarah's birthday party was over. As soon as I entered, Dad hurried over, made a "shh" gesture, and pointed to Sarah's room. Only then did I hear sobbing coming from inside. "She invited a friend but he didn't come, she's sad, don't provoke her." I pushed him away and turned into my own room. After a while, Dad knocked and came in again: "How's the hand? What did the doctor say?" As he spoke, he handed over an exquisite gift box from behind: "This is what Dad bought specially for you." Inside must be a hairpin. I have received many identical ones. Every time he lost his temper with me because of Sarah, he would buy something to coax me. The price isn't high, incomparable to Sarah's gifts, but it's wrapped by him personally, exquisite and beautiful, making it seem like he values and cherishes this daughter very much. But, I am just this spineless. Every time I received it, my resentment towards him dissipated, and then I sat happily in the corner, telling myself that he must love me. He only treats Sarah so well because of her poor health. "Thanks." I took the gift and put it casually on the desk, then continued doing problems. He stood by my side, watched for a long time, and finally sighed and went out. When I came out after showering, I saw Sarah standing in front of my desk, wearing that new dress. She didn't notice me coming in, just focused on examining my test paper, her hands trembling slightly. "Who let you in?" She turned around a beat slow, looking at me with red eyes. Only then did I see what she was holding was the test paper I snatched from Lucas. "This, this, where did you get this from?" A young girl's thoughts are just this obvious. Actually, I discovered her crush on Lucas earlier than she did. "Do you think I stole it?" I walked slowly to her and took the test paper. There was no name written on it, but she recognized it at a glance. Like him this much? "Sister," she also realized her loss of composure and hurriedly changed the subject, "I came to bring you cake, saved specially for you." She held the cake carefully, looking at me. "Thanks, but I ate out with Lucas today, very full." Her smile nearly cracked, but she still tried hard to maintain it: "Is, is that so? Then, I'll put it in the fridge first." Watching her fleeing back, I felt somewhat carefree in my heart, but this pleasure of revenge was fleeting and didn't stay long. Over the years, Sarah tried every way to please me and my mom. No matter how I bullied her, she just wiped her tears secretly, and after wiping tears, followed my butt calling sister this and sister that. However, no matter what efforts she makes, it cannot cover up the fact that because of her, our family fell apart. The next day, as soon as I arrived in class, Lucas came over brazenly and snatched my schoolbag: "I'm checking if you slacked off last night." Then, while checking, he scolded me as a pig over my wrong answers. I looked up slightly and saw Sarah looking at Lucas, looking somewhat pitiful. Feeling wronged just like this? Perhaps, I should be more intimate with Lucas to make her suffer more. But I couldn't do it no matter what, finally just sat silently in my seat. "You can get this question wrong too? Do you really have no brain, or are you deliberately angering me?" I lay on the table, answering honestly: "Really no brain." Lucas was stunned, coughed twice, and actually started explaining to me. With Lucas helping me, my grades indeed improved relatively fast. By the end of the first mock exam, I was no longer at the bottom of the class. The teacher even specially issued a certificate to praise me, asking me to call my dad over, saying he wanted to award me in front of the parent. Since I went astray and rebellious, I had never received a certificate again. "My dad doesn't have time." The teacher was somewhat disappointed. But when I got home, I saw Dad made a big table of dishes saying to celebrate my progress. Seeing Sarah beside him, I knew what was going on. "Sister, these are all made by Dad specially for you." I looked at the table full of bland dishes. Made for me? "Let's eat." I ate without tasting, then went into the room. Sarah whispered: "Sister seems unhappy?" Dad answered her: "Your sister has had this bad temper since she was little, unpredictable, don't mind her." When I was about to sleep, Dad knocked and came in, praising my progress again, and saying he would make me nutritious meals every day. "Just say it if you have something." He was interrupted by me from painting a big picture (making empty promises), and wasn't angry. After thinking for more than ten seconds, he said: "I remember your mom left two gold bracelets, right?" 4 My heart lifted instantly, looking at him warily. "Although Sarah's surgery was successful, this medicine still needs to be taken for a while, so Dad thought..." "Don't even think about it." To treat Sarah's illness, everything in the house that could be sold was sold. Only these two gold bracelets were left by Grandma. My mom had a huge fight with him and almost jumped off the building to keep them. This also became the only thought Mom left for me besides the pile of old clothes and shoes given by others. "Don't worry, when Sarah gets better, Dad will definitely return them to you." I stood up, trying hard to control my anger: "How return? This is what Mom left me, can you buy them back?" "No no no," he waved his hands repeatedly, "Dad will definitely buy a pair of better ones for you." "Get out." I pointed at the door, "Do you have a conscience? What kind of life have Mom and I lived for Sarah these years? Now that she's dead, you still covet her things. Are you human?" His face instantly turned cold, but after a few seconds, he looked like a good old man again: "Dad has been unfair to you these years, but Sarah is the sister who grew up with you. Are you going to watch her die?" "What does her life or death have to do with me?" I shouted at him hoarsely, "It's best if she dies." Slap!!! I lost my balance and fell to the ground. My left face went numb instantly, and my ears were buzzing. It took a long time for the dizziness to disappear, and my face followed with burning pain. "Do you still look like a daughter? I came to discuss with you because my temper is too good." Saying that, he was about to push me away to find things. However, turning my room upside down, he couldn't find those two bracelets. "Where are the things?" "Sold." "Where's the money?" I smiled coldly: "Spent." "You..." He raised his hand to hit me again but was hugged by Sarah who rushed in suddenly. "Dad, I still have medicine, don't hit sister." I don't know how much sincerity was in her persuasion, and I didn't care to check. David Song (Dad) pointed at me with trembling fingers: "Get out." I slowly got up, packed my few clothes into my schoolbag, took my ID: "Do you think I want to stay in this house?" If it weren't for Mom's shadow here, I wouldn't want to look at them again. I put on my bag and strode out. David Song was still cursing behind me: "If you leave today, don't think about entering this house again." "Don't worry," my steps didn't stop, "I won't come back."
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