Abandoned the Day My Heart Needed Them

On the day I'm diagnosed with dependent personality disorder, my family treats me like I'm the most fragile porcelain. My parents put me first in everything. Mom even quits her executive job to stay by my side during treatment. The day my condition finally stabilizes, they smile with genuine relief for the first time. Even my adopted older sister, Winifred Linberry, smiles. She says, "I told you Sadie wasn't that sick. She just wanted to hog your attention." That day, my parents scold her for the first time and insist she apologize to me. On the night she goes to a class reunion, I quietly mention that my heart feels a little uneasy. Dad suddenly slams the medicine box in his hand onto the floor. He roars, "Can't you be a little more considerate? Your sister just lost her competition and she's already upset! We've spent every day revolving around you. Can't we spend just a few hours with her? "If you don't feel well, take your medicine yourself. We've had enough!" The pills scatter across the floor. He grabs his jacket and storms out, slamming the door behind him. Mom looks at me, as if she wants to say something. In the end, she says nothing and follows him out. I don't say a word. I simply dig my fingernails into my arm as my breathing becomes more and more difficult. Chapter 1 I crouched down and searched around for my medicine. Yet, even after swallowing several pills, my heart palpitations didn't subside. I suddenly recalled something the doctor had once told me. "Drugs can only help to a certain extent. Only your familial relationships can truly provide you with the sense of security you need." I called Mom with shaking hands. I heard a busy tone, after which I was transferred to voicemail. I recalled that my older sister, Winifred Linberry, hated it when my parents focused their attention on me. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. As soon as I leaned against the couch, I felt a strange sensation—a hair tie that didn't belong to me was sticking out of the armrest. Winnie loved these sparkly, glittery designs the most. Countless memories flooded through my mind—Winnie "just so happening" to trip and fall when I needed my parents' attention, Winnie "accidentally" overturning my glass of water when I was taking my medicine, Winnie "unintentionally" playing loud music when I startled awake at night… I felt increasingly short of breath and rushed into my parents' bedroom to look for an inhaler. However, their cabinet held only family photos of my parents with Winnie. They were smiling brightly in every photo, which depicted them visiting an amusement park, hiking, and going to the beach. I never knew they'd gone on these outings. There was also a newly taken family photo positioned near the edge of the photo frame. In the photo, Dad had his arms around Mom and Winnie. The three of them painted a heartwarming picture together. My heart was pounding so loudly that it was all I could hear. I swept the photo frame onto the floor. The glass shards cut into my ankle. A drop of blood landed on the photograph and smeared over Winnie's smiling face. The mess on the floor reminded me of Dad's angry outburst last week. "What exactly do we have to do to stop you from having any more episodes?" he had bellowed angrily. They must be sick and tired of me constantly making everyone feel tense and pressured. I hurriedly tried to clean up the shards, but as soon as I stood up, the world started spinning. Countless voices clamored in my head. "You're unnecessary!" "It's all your fault!" "They don't even want to be your parents!" I stumbled behind the small partition inside the storeroom. The dark, cramped space allowed me to catch my breath for a moment. I really, really missed Mom's warm hugs. After much hesitation, I called Winnie. She had once told me that I could always go to her for help. After the fifth ring, the call finally connected. I could hear the sound of laughter and cheerful music in the background. "Sadie? I'm with my friends right now," said Winnie. "I'm… not feeling well. Could you ask Dad and Mom to—" Someone took the phone from Winnie, after which I heard Mom say in a low voice, "Your sister's having a great time relaxing with her friends today. You're already 18, Sadie. Can you stop acting up every time something happens?" With that, she hung up. The faint glow of the phone screen illuminated my tear-streaked face. Mom was right. I was an adult, yet I was still constantly being a burden on my family. I didn't deserve to have parents like them at all. Mom's old knitted cardigan was draped over the partition. I took it and wrapped it around myself. It still carried the faint scent of laundry detergent—the same fragrance I always smelled back when she used to put me to sleep every night. I buried my face in the soft fabric. I imagined that Mom was patting my back and saying comfortingly, "I'm here." I didn't know how much time had passed, but I gradually felt more and more suffocated. Around the same time, the last sliver of light beneath the door frame vanished as well. I closed my eyes and reminisced on my short 18 years of life. Perhaps my disappearance would be the best outcome for everyone involved. My parents wouldn't have to take time off for me anymore, Winnie's classmates wouldn't laugh at her for having a nutcase for a sister anymore, and I would no longer have to count my pills while pretending to be okay in front of the doctor. I loosened my grip on the partition and let my consciousness sink into the depths, surrounded by the scent of the sweater. I felt like I was a child again, and Mom was humming me a lullaby to put me to sleep. Chapter 2 When I next opened my eyes, I saw myself curled up in a corner behind the storeroom partition. I never thought death would be such a simple affair. As my soul drifted out of the room, I saw my parents helping a slightly tipsy Winnie through the front door. Winnie mumbled, "Dad, Mom, it feels so good to have you two all to myself…" My heart tightened at her sugary tone. Mom gently patted her back and said, "Go wash up. I'll make you some soup to help with your hangover." While passing through the living room, Dad stopped in surprise and asked, "Why's there glass all over the floor?" "Ah, I think Sadie might have accidentally dropped the photo frame," Winnie piped up. She leaned against Mom's shoulder, her eyes gleaming with venom, and continued, "I think she was angry again this afternoon. She even called to yell at me…" She was lying. Dad frowned and glanced at the pills scattered all over the floor. "Don't hold it against her. We'll retake the photo tomorrow." They made a beeline for the kitchen. It was as if I never existed in this household. I bit my lip, feeling my very soul tremble. Winnie wrapped her arms around Mom from behind and said, "I haven't had your homemade soup in forever." Ever since I was diagnosed with dependent personality disorder, Winnie would constantly complain that the atmosphere at home felt too oppressive. My parents would always smile awkwardly and ask her to be more patient with me, but today, they allowed Winnie to cling to their sides. Mom tapped her forehead affectionately. "Then, I'll make soup for you every day from now on." All three of their shadows overlapped under the orange glow of the lights, painting a heartwarming scene. The delicious aroma of hot soup soon filled the dining room. "I'll go check on Sadie," Mom announced. Winnie grabbed her by the wrist. "Don't! She hasn't made a sound the entire night, which must mean she doesn't want to see me. What if we trigger another of her episodes?" Mom paused and didn't insist on the matter. Winnie then cheerily asked Dad to feed her the soup. "When I was sick as a kid, didn't you always feed me like this, Dad?" she asked. "Ever since Sadie was diagnosed, you two haven't really spared time for me in ages." Dad sighed and blew lightly on a spoonful of soup. "It's our fault that you've had it rough all this time, but it's alright. Once Sadie's recovered, we can all go on a trip together as a family." Winnie's eyes gleamed smugly. She would always take everything from me when I needed our parents the most. I once asked my parents why through tears, but they would always reply with the same argument. "Winnie is our adopted daughter, after all. You should be more understanding and not make things difficult for her just because you're younger. Be more tolerant." I first felt aggrieved, then numb. Later, I was officially diagnosed with dependent personality disorder. Looking back, I was the closest I'd ever been with my parents during that bleak period following my diagnosis. With a meow, the stray cat I'd adopted, Snowy, slipped into the living room. It circled the empty food bowl a few times while meowing, then leaped onto the dining table in search of food. Winnie screamed and smacked the edge of the dining table. "You dirty creature! Get off!" Dad grabbed Snowy and tossed it aside. "Where's your owner? Didn't she feed you? Sadie Linberry! Why are you throwing another tantrum? So, you won't even look after your cat now? "Get out here right now! Winnie's finally had a good day for once, so you'd better not ruin it for her!" Dad's voice grew increasingly harsh. He was the one who'd brought Snowy in from the streets to keep me company. I raised Snowy lovingly, yet I could now do nothing but watch it meow in hunger. Snowy seemed to sense my presence. Its fur suddenly bristled, and it started meowing in my direction. In the chaos, it overturned Winnie's bowl of soup and soaked a good part of her clothes. Winnie cried out tearily, "I just wanted Mom and Dad to come along and unwind with me! Why must Sadie do this?" Dad grabbed a tissue box and hurled it at Snowy. "Get lost! You're just as inconsiderate as your owner! Tell her that if she doesn't come out and apologize before the day's over, she can forget about receiving any more attention from us! Sadie! I know you can hear me!" I floated in front of him, attempting to explain myself, but could not find my voice. Snowy hid under the couch in fright. I opened my mouth, but in the end, all I managed to say was, "I'm sorry." Chapter 3 As Winnie left to take a shower, she casually said, "I want to wear that outfit Sadie bought last time." Steam filled the bathroom, from which I could hear Mom and Winnie's laughter. Dad, who was sitting in the living room, tapped on the chat window recording his and my conversations. He typed, "I spoke too harshly just now, but it's true that Winnie has been treated unfairly. I'm very tired today, so come on out. Stop hiding. "At the end of the day, you're our biological daughter. There's no way we wouldn't love you, so stop letting your imagination run wild." As he typed, he walked toward the storeroom. He knew that I liked to curl up in dark corners whenever I had an episode. He would sometimes spend one to two hours looking for me. "Your mother heated up some milk for you. It's going to go cold if you don't come out soon," he continued. He turned on the storeroom lights and glanced toward the corner out of habit. Then, he sighed and opened a wardrobe while recording a voice message with one hand. I suddenly grew nervous. If he walked just a little further inside the storeroom, he'd see my corpse. Would he feel upset or relieved? I could already see my pale fingertips resting against the edge of the partition. However, Dad's attention was on his phone. "Winnie's also a member of our family. You can't keep shutting her out." After successfully sending out the voice message, he left without looking back. On his way out, he casually grabbed the pajamas I used to really like. I tried to grab the hem of his shirt, but my hand passed right through him. The storeroom door closed once more. I gazed at the gradually cooling milk in the kitchen. I suddenly recalled how, during my childhood, Mom would warm me a glass of milk every night while waiting for me to finish up my homework. I sat at the dining table and imagined my parents were right by my side. Soon, Winnie came out of the bathroom, done washing her hair. She was mumbling, "Is Sadie still refusing to come out? In that case, can I blow-dry my hair in her bedroom?" Dad frowned and glanced at his unread messages. He didn't stop her. Mom was very gentle in helping Winnie blow-dry her hair. I vaguely remember that she used to lull me to sleep in much the same way back when I came down with a fever as a child. Back then, she would often say, "Sadie is my little princess." When the sounds of the hair dryer faded. Winnie looked up with gleaming eyes and said, "Dad, Mom, I think… Sadie may never get better." Mom paused while straightening her clothes. Winnie lowered her voice. "Think about it—you passed up a promotion due to her illness, Mom, and Dad's project fell through. It would be so embarrassing if our relatives were to find out that we have a nutcase in the family. I'm also your daughter, anyway, so I'll take care of you two in your old age." My parents had adopted Winnie back when they discovered that they were unable to have children. However, I was born less than a year after Winnie's adoption, so my parents had always considered Winnie to be their good luck charm. When I was young, I loved to stumble along after Winnie too, but she would always shove me aside with a cold glare. "It's all your fault. If you hadn't been born, I'd have had Mom and Dad all to myself!" As a child, I hadn't been able to understand what she meant. I would just clumsily try to win her favor. Now, as I looked at my own icy corpse, I thought to myself that Winnie had finally gotten her wish. Chapter 4 Mom quietly set down the hair dryer, a stern look in her eyes. "Don't talk nonsense." Winnie sat up straight. "It's not nonsense! Is being related by blood really that important? I've spent so much more time with you two than Sadie! All she ever does is cry or have episodes. What right—" Dad interrupted her tiredly. "Enough. You should go to sleep." Winnie bit her lip and left the room, clutching her pillow. Silence fell upon the bedroom. Mom suddenly piped up quietly, "Winnie does have a point… You've been burning yourself out looking after Sadie for three years. Why don't we… send her to a professional care facility?" Dad said nothing. He simply gazed at a childhood photo of me on his phone. Back then, I used to smile as radiantly as the sun. I floated over to them. I wanted to tell them that I'd get better soon, but they couldn't see me. Eventually, Dad sighed and replied, "Let's talk about it another day." He got up and started looking into places where I might be hiding. "Come on out, Sadie. I apologize. We want to live happily with you, but honestly, we're really scared that some random remark from us will trigger another episode." Just then, his phone rang. It was a call from his company. After answering the call, his frown deepened. He hung up and rubbed his temples wearily. "There's another problem with the project…" I hadn't taken a good look at him for a long time. His hair was greying at the temples, and he had very dark circles under his eyes. "I'm sorry for wearing you out like this. I don't deserve to be your daughter. Please take good care of yourself from now on," I told him. I tried reaching out to touch his shoulder, but my fingertips passed right through his body. He suddenly turned to look in my direction. That was when Winnie suddenly let out a scream from inside the storeroom. When Dad rushed over, he saw Winnie clutching her arm and crying. "Sadie just rushed out from behind the partition to scratch me!" I laughed disbelievingly at her completely baseless accusation. "But I'm already dead!" However, Dad had already turned a furious gaze toward the partition door, which was slightly ajar. From his angle, he could only see my curled legs. "Sadie Linberry! Come out here and apologize! It's wrong to hurt your sister!" he shouted. Seeing no response, he raised his voice even further. "I'm counting to three! If you still don't come out, I'm going to get really angry!" He reached out to tug on my leg. I frantically got in front of him and yelled, "Don't touch me!" I didn't want Dad to see my gruesome corpse. Yet, his hand passed straight through my soul and grasped my corpse's icy wrist. My corpse toppled out like a plaster statue.