The spacious room was given to the protagonist, and I was forced to move into a narrow storage room. My classmates bullied me, calling me the daughter of murderers. My parents always said I had no empathy. My childhood crush and best friend accused me of being jealous and deliberately making her uncomfortable. Even though I did nothing wrong, I had to bear the blame that wasn't mine.
At the beginning of the new year, while they celebrated a cozy family reunion, I, suffering from severe depression, walked into the freezing river.
There was a knock on the door. I rushed to open it, excitedly, only to see my parents standing there with a girl about my age behind them.
"Julissa, from today, she is your sister. You need to be considerate of her," my parents said, their faces showing identical exhaustion.
I learned that two days ago, when they returned from a business trip, their car had crashed into Lauren's parents' car. Of the three people involved, only Lauren survived. Now, they had just finished dealing with the aftermath and planned to bring Lauren home to complete the transfer procedures for her school.
They didn't mention the details of the accident, but I frowned.
"Mom, Dad, doesn't she have any relatives?" I asked.
My dad's eyes widened in anger, and he slapped me hard across the face, not holding back at all.
"What are you talking about? It's our good fortune that Lauren is willing to come to our home. Do you want her to live under someone else's roof and be treated as an outsider?"
I winced in pain. Logically speaking, since my parents had killed her parents, they should be responsible for her.
"Then don't you have to go to jail for killing someone?" I asked innocently, looking up. The three of them froze, looking at each other, unable to provide an explanation.
I began to realize that things wouldn't be so simple. A strong sense of unease rose in my heart.
"These are adult matters; you don't need to worry about them," my dad said.
I nodded and quickly retreated to my room, ignoring my parents' voices behind me. I was up all night, my heart racing. Sometimes I felt like I was dreaming, and other times I hoped that Lauren would disappear from my house by morning. Maybe we could get along peacefully, after all, she had lost her parents.
In a daze, I seemed to have a dream. It was Lauren's birthday, and my parents and my friends were celebrating with her. I hid in a corner, suddenly rushing out to smash her cake on the ground. The people around us looked at me with condemnation, and my best friend stared at me with disgust.
"Disgusting, you still have the nerve to bully Lauren," she said.
When I woke up in the morning, I was drenched in sweat. My family wasn't rich, just a regular household. Adding another child would inevitably affect me. For instance, in our three-bedroom apartment, my parents used to sleep in the master bedroom, and I had the second bedroom. Now, only a windowless guest room was left.