"Selfish! That's what you are. Can't you see you me happy for once."
That's what Lyla, my sister, said after I asked my family for justice. "See, you made your sister cry for such a trivial thing," my mom spat as she hugged her, throwing daggers at me.
My mouth went dry, as what could I say to them? My family. The parents who always took her side. The sister who loved to torment me, bend me until I broke. These people didn't care for me or what I do unless Lyla set her eyes on something that belonged to me.
And this time, it was my comic. The world that I created, the characters that gave me a sense of security and comfort. She stole it from me before I could send my final copy to my publisher. While I still madly searched for it, they replaced my name with hers and sent it to the same publisher.
They made that publisher believe that it was me who stole it from her and published that comic under her name. People loved the story, which I always wanted, but at what cost?
"Trivial? This was my whole life's hard work, and imagination, and you all stole it from...!"
Slap! The sound echoed as dead silence took over. My head turned to the other side as my other cheek stung. I couldn't control the overwhelming emotions, and hot tears poured out as I stared at my father, who had just slapped me.
"You brat! You think so highly of yourself, then get out of here. We don't need an ungrateful child." His thundering voice shuddered through me. Before I could reply, he gripped me by my arm and pulled me towards the exit.
"Dad...please. I am sorry...don't please. I beg...Mom, please, stop Dad." I kept requesting their mercy, but nothing could melt their cold stone heart. A final push as my knees and hands scraped against the concrete of the road.
"Don't ever show your face. You are not my daughter." With this, the thud of the door closing came along with their happy cheers for their golden child. It took my brain some time to register that my own parents threw me out just because I asked for justice for myself.
Slowly, I stood up as my legs wobbled and the painful reality started to hit like crazy. I took small steps reaching the center of the road. The other side was just a few steps away. I groaned as my mind kept screaming to stop and give up.
But I knew better than to be in the middle of the road. Though the road seemed deserted, life taught me that uncertainty was something you can't avoid. Also, seeing the last few minutes, life couldn't be more uncertain and crueler to me.
I don't know how much time had passed when I almost reached there. Then unexpectedly the silence was pierced by a screeching noise. A harsh light flashed upon me, taking my sight. Before I could know what was happening, a jerk pushed me hard.
So hard that my whole body felt light as wind pierced through me. I screamed even though my lungs burned. Then it hit, and something warm started to cover my face. It got harder by every second to open my eyes.
The number of figures started to appear along with swears and gasps. My head hurt too much for me to focus, but I wanted to see. For the last time, I wanted to see an ounce of sympathy and care in my parents' eyes. I waited and waited, as my vision became more blurry. When I thought I wouldn't be able to see them, the familiar voice fell into my ear.
"Ugh, she always finds a way to ruin my celebration," Lyla's sad voice punched me hard as I gasped, struggled for air. In my last breath, I wanted them to take my side. Just one time.
"Don't worry, baby, we will host a grand party after we take care of it." My mother's sugary voice felt like venom turning my blood into something dark.
It. That was I to them. An inconvenience.
Regret rushed through me as I thought of all those times when I sacrificed my happiness for her, only to not be called selfish or jealous. If I ever got another chance, I would have chosen myself. Even though it would hurt people, I will choose my happiness, my wishes. At any cost.
That's what I decided for myself. To choose myself, but for that I, the spineless one, have to say...No. Will I be able to do that? A person who had never even raised their voice would ever be able to grow a spine?
A tree that had been cut multiple times would be able to grow again? Would I be able to take the risk of facing the same pain and humiliation? Again?
And the last thought that crossed my mind was...
If there is another life…
This time, I will choose myself.