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My Sister Denied My Last Request, and My Family Regretted It Too Late

Novelix Completed

虐恋、剧情反转、秘密、追悔莫及、被拒绝、背叛、被虐待/被霸凌、家庭冲突、好女孩、青年、受害者、女儿、悲剧、BE、家庭羁绊/亲情、第一人称视角、世情、剧情/戏剧、现代/都市

Chapters (3)

第1章

For as long as I could remember, Mom and Dad had put my sister Olivia in charge of my money. They made it a rule: every single cent I spent had to be approved by Olivia first. When I was eight, I ran a fever and asked for money to buy medicine. Olivia said I only wanted the cash to buy candy, and she turned me down flat. The fever turned into pneumonia. When I was ten, the family went rafting on the river. I couldn't swim, so I asked to rent a life vest. Olivia said the raft was perfectly safe and I didn't need one. The raft flipped. I nearly drowned. When I was eighteen, I got my acceptance letter from an Ivy League school and asked for tuition and living expenses. Olivia turned me down again. She handed me five hundred dollars and shipped me off to a cheap cosmetology school in town. Until today. I started coughing up blood, and I wanted to go to West Bridge Medical Center. Mom and my brother Ethan didn't even lift their heads. Their voices were flat with irritation. "Ask Olivia." Olivia sat on the couch, picking at a fifty-dollar box of imported Rainier cherries. She smiled. "Denied. You look fine. Quit faking." The living room rang with their laughter. I went back to the storage room caked in black mold. I clamped a hand over my mouth as I coughed. When I opened my palm, it was full of blood. And in that moment, something in me actually eased. This house—where even a single cent required approval—I didn't want to live in it anymore. ... My lungs burned. I pressed my hand tight to my mouth as I coughed, careful not to make too much noise. Olivia hated noise. In this house, I had no right to ask for anything. I pulled a scrap of sandpaper from the old toolbox and wiped my mouth. It was coarse, and it left my lips raw and stinging. I had asked once, for the cheapest pack of tissues. Olivia had denied it. "What's wrong with using regular paper? Don't be so precious, all right?" Meanwhile, she was using the joint allowance Mom gave the two of us to buy twenty-dollar boxes of disposable facial cloths. Half of that money was supposed to be mine. And I couldn't even buy myself a pack of tissues. I sank down against the wall. My fingers brushed the plaster and came away smeared with a thick patch of blackish-green mold. Olivia and I used to share a room. Then she decided she wanted her own space, and the storage room next to the basement got hastily converted into mine. No windows. Just a rusted little exhaust fan. Every corner and every seam along the ceiling was rimmed with black mold. Two years ago, when I first started feeling something wrong in my chest, I asked Mom if we could get a cleaning crew in to deal with the mold. She had just looked at me, exasperated. "Emily, how many times do I have to tell you? If you need money, you go to Olivia first." I forced myself to Olivia's door. She denied me. "Get someone in to strip the mold? Then repaint the walls too? That's hundreds, maybe thousands of dollars. Please. You're still breathing, aren't you? Don't make trouble for me." Meanwhile, the purse hanging from her shoulder was one I'd only ever seen in magazines. So I stayed in that moldy little room for another two years. The coughing came more often. The blood came in bigger amounts. I was still thinking about it when Mom's voice rang out from the living room. "Emily, come out and get your allowance for the month!" I cleaned the blood off myself and stepped out. Two envelopes sat on the table. One so fat it barely closed. The other so thin it clearly held only a few bills. Ethan handed the thick one to Olivia, his eyes soft in a way that hurt to look at. "Olivia, that's fifty thousand for you. Dance lessons, competition costumes, styling fees—it all comes out of this. If it's not enough, just tell me." Olivia squealed and threw her arms around Ethan's arm. "Ethan, you're the best!" Mom ran a gentle hand over Olivia's hair. When she turned to me, the smile faded. She nodded at the thin envelope. "Emily. Five hundred. Make it stretch." I didn't reach for it. Under the rules they had made, I wasn't allowed to hold my own money. Sure enough, a second later, Olivia scooped up the five hundred. "You want to spend anything, you fill out a request. Date, place, purpose—all of it, in writing. And stop walking around with that face on, like I owe you something." "I want to use it now. I want to get a medical check-up." I pulled the request form out of my pocket. I'd filled it in ahead of time, every field just the way she liked. Olivia had already tucked the money away. She rolled her eyes at me. "Denied. Like I told you—you're nineteen, you eat fine, you sleep fine. You don't need a check-up." I looked at Mom. Hoping she might say one word for me. She ignored my eyes. She picked up a cherry, held it to Olivia's lips, and said what she always said. "Listen to Olivia." Ethan was quiet for a couple of seconds. Then he stood up and gave my arm a light squeeze. "Come on. The check-up really isn't necessary. You've always been healthy. Nothing's going to happen." I didn't argue. I used to push back. All it ever got me was stricter rules and more paperwork. Eventually, I learned to swallow it. Maybe one day, if Olivia was in a good enough mood, she'd toss me a few dollars. I turned to go, and Olivia called after me. She pulled out a hundred-dollar bill and held it out. "Food money. For the week. Don't waste it." I muttered something in reply and went back to my room. A hundred dollars. Together with the two hundred I had quietly squirreled away in my phone account over the years, it was just enough for one visit to West Bridge Medical Center.

第2章

That afternoon, I went to West Bridge Medical Center. The doctor stared at my results for a long time before he spoke. "Stage four lung cancer. It's already metastasized." My hands hung limp against my knees. My nails dug slowly into my palms. "It's spread. So chemo won't help anymore, will it?" The doctor nodded. "At this point, we're looking at palliative care. Medication to manage the pain. To make what's left of your time a little more comfortable." It was strange. Actually hearing that I was dying didn't scare me the way I'd always imagined it would. The doctor kept scrolling through my chart. He noted the severe pneumonia I'd had at eight, and the hospitalization at fifteen for a pulmonary mold infection. He frowned. "Your condition is directly tied to that untreated pneumonia in childhood, and to long-term exposure to mold." "Why are you living somewhere like that? Where are your parents?" I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. I just asked, "How much does this kind of treatment usually cost?" "It isn't cheap. Are you on your family's health insurance plan? With coverage, your out-of-pocket might come down to around ten thousand." I froze for a second. The color drained from my face. "I'm not." Last year, when the family renewed the health plan, Mom, Dad, Ethan, and Olivia were all on it. When they got to my name, Olivia crossed it out. "Mom and Dad are older. They need coverage. Ethan works, so he needs it. I dance every day, so I need it." She'd looked me up and down and let out a cold little laugh. "You? You go to that cheap cosmetology school in town, learning how to cut hair and paint nails. What could possibly happen to you? Spending premium dollars on you would be a waste." But by then, I already knew something was wrong with my body. That was the first time I ever begged her. "Olivia, please. Just this once. I've never been on it before." She didn't even pause. "No." I looked at Mom, Dad, and Ethan. They all pretended not to see. They actually praised her, said Olivia was so responsible with money, so mindful of the family's expenses. The doctor's sigh brought me back. "Without insurance, three hundred thousand is just the starting point. Hospitalization, pain management, nursing, follow-up—all in, five hundred thousand may not be enough." "Go home. Talk to your family. You're only nineteen. Don't try to carry the end of your life alone." I nodded. "Okay. Thank you, Doctor." I walked home. I didn't have money left for the bus. The whole way, I turned it over in my head—whether to tell them at all, and if I did, how I'd even begin. I opened the front door and started to speak. A slap landed across my face before I got a word out. Mom's face was flushed with rage. "Where have you been today?" My cheek burned. Olivia sat on the couch, crying, wearing her most wounded expression. "You went to West Bridge Medical Center, didn't you?" I held my cheek and stared at her, dazed. "How did you know?" Olivia's eyes were red as she looked at me. "Your phone shares your location. I denied your check-up request yesterday, and you went behind my back and did it anyway!" "Emily, is this how you show me how much you resent me?" She jumped up, hurled the request form and the cash across the floor. "Fine. I'm done managing you. So trying to save you money is a crime now, is that it?" Ethan went straight to her and sat down, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to soothe her. Mom rushed over on her other side, and her voice went soft in a way I'd never heard directed at me. Every trace of the disgust and anger she'd just spat at me was gone. "Don't cry, sweetheart. You didn't do anything wrong. She's the one who broke the rules." Olivia dipped her head, tears still streaking down her cheeks. "But right now, it looks like I've been bullying her this whole time." Mom pulled her in immediately. "Nobody thinks that." Then she turned to me. "On your knees. Right now. Apologize to Olivia." "You went around Olivia and spent your food money without permission. That gets punished. From now on, whatever she approves for you is what you get." Ethan frowned. "Just apologize. Don't make this uglier than it has to be." He didn't look at me again. He turned back to Olivia and murmured to her. "Don't waste your energy on her. She's just difficult. Don't let her ruin your night." They gathered around Olivia. I stood there, and something in me almost wanted to laugh. They all knew I'd gone to West Bridge Medical Center. Not one of them asked what was wrong with me. Not one of them asked what the doctor had said. I walked over slowly, knelt down on the scattered request forms, and lowered my head. "I'm sorry." Mom's voice was cold. "Say it properly." I gripped the hem of my shirt. "I'm sorry, Olivia. I shouldn't have spent money behind your back." Olivia looked at me, eyes still red, and then rolled them. "Whatever. You're giving me a headache." She grabbed her phone and headed upstairs. Mom and Ethan hurried after her. "Sweetheart, don't be upset." By dinnertime, I was still on my knees. The hundred dollars Olivia had approved yesterday was supposed to be my food money for the week. I'd spent it on the check-up. So tonight, there was no plate for me. The table was covered in Olivia's favorites—steak, lobster, crab legs, and her beloved cream truffle pasta. A sharp pain flared in my lungs. I lowered my head and coughed twice. Blood hit the floor. I was kneeling with my back to them. Not one of them saw.

第3章

I knelt on the hardwood floor of the living room for a full hour. My legs had gone numb almost past feeling when Ethan finally walked over. He noticed the blood on the request forms, not quite dry. He paused. "Who's bleeding?" He looked at me. "You feeling sick?" Before I could answer, he shook his head at his own question. "Probably just steak sauce. You've always been healthy. Go back to your room." He pressed a cold, leftover chicken drumstick into my hand. I almost cried. Then, a second later, he said: "Stop butting heads with Olivia. She's just trying to keep you from wasting money." I looked at the drumstick in my hand and didn't move. In my whole life, I had rarely held more than two hundred dollars at a time. What money did I have to waste? She wasn't managing anything. She just wanted me begging her for every little thing. "Ethan, actually, I—" The moment I started, his brow furrowed. So I swallowed the rest. There was no point. In the end, all I said was, "I understand." I went back to my room. The air always carried that damp, sour smell. Over the years, my clothes and hair had picked it up too. I'd once put in a request for a cheap bottle of laundry detergent, just to wash it out. Olivia had denied it. "Bar soap still works fine. Detergent's like fifteen bucks. Don't spend money on nonsense." Meanwhile, she used the premium detergent pods Mom and Dad bought her. Every day she smelled clean and fresh. I was still thinking about it when another cough shook me. The blood pooled in my palm, darker than before. I stared at it a long time without moving. Then the door swung open. Olivia stood in the doorway, one hand covering her nose. She tossed a hundred-dollar bill onto my bed. "Since you were reasonably obedient on your knees today, I'm approving a hundred for food." I closed my fingers around the crumpled bill, and finally I couldn't hold it back. "Olivia, what did I ever do to make you hate me this much?" Her face stiffened for a second. Then she stepped inside, disgust plain in her eyes. "The day you were born, Mom and Dad and Ethan stopped looking at only me." "Of course I hate you." I sat on the edge of the bed. My fingers curled slowly into a fist. Olivia lifted her chin. "Remember. You want money, you come to me. Try going around me again, and I'll have Mom throw you out." She slammed the door behind her. My phone buzzed on the bed beside me. It was Olivia's cast-off. Seven years ago, when I asked to get a phone, she threw this old one at me and made Mom buy her the newest iPhone. The screen hung for a while before the doctor's message finally loaded. "Have you talked to your family?" I looked at the words. Pain radiated through my lungs in waves. "I'm not doing treatment. No chemo, no palliative. I don't have a family." "Thank you for caring." The reply took a long time. "I understand. I hope your remaining time is as painless as possible. Reach out if you need anything." I stared at that message for a long time. In the end, the only person who wanted me to hurt less was a stranger. The next morning, Mom walked into the living room with Olivia on her arm, beaming. "Olivia won her dance competition again. Today the whole family is going for a picnic at Pine Ridge Mountain Resort." I didn't say anything. Normally, even for a family outing, I needed Olivia's approval to go. She had to give the nod before I qualified as part of the family. But this time, I didn't want to go. Mom looked at me. "Emily, aren't you happy?" Before I could answer, she was already stroking Olivia's hair. "You don't have to submit a request this time. Olivia said you can come." "Thank Olivia." I met Olivia's eyes. She looked very pleased with herself. "Thank you, Olivia." I knew she had something planned. But I didn't have the strength left to say no.