Second Life: I Only Live for Myself

I am dying alone in a dark and damp mental asylum. At the same time, my parents are putting on a grand art exhibition for Jane Chamberlain, my sister, in a brilliant exhibition hall. Chase Lister, my boyfriend, is standing right next to her, applauding in celebration. It is supposed to be my achievement, as every piece within this exhibition hall is the product of my painstaking labor, but they now belong exclusively to Jane. I spend my whole life competing with Jane, only to end up with nothing. I open my eyes again and decide not to fight for anything anymore. I just want to live well on my own terms and take good care of myself. Chapter 1 "J-Jane isn't in good health, Yvonne. Jane isn't like you. You excel in both art and academics, making it easy for you to get admitted into a good university. Y-You should probably hand over your award-winning painting to…" Mom trailed off, her voice barely a whisper by the end. She then glanced at Jane Chamberlain, my younger sister, who stood to the side looking so devastated that she could barely stand. She eventually said what needed to be said. "You should probably hand over your award-winning painting to Jane, Yvonne. She could use the award to get admitted into a university known for its art program." I was baffled after hearing that request. I had a hard time understanding what Mom was trying to say. I had died all alone in the dark basement of an asylum. The loneliness of remaining undiscovered until my body rotted still seemed to be etched into my very bones. It took a good while before I realized that I had been reborn. I had returned to my senior year of high school, back to a time when there was still a chance to change everything. Dad, who was standing beside Jane, noticed that I had remained silent for too long and asked angrily, "How could you be so petty when you're the older sister, Yvonne? What's the big deal about giving your painting to Jane? "Do you think she'd even need your worthless painting if it weren't for her poor health? Jane's achievements would definitely be higher than yours! You have to give up the painting whether you like it or not." My parents had said the same thing to me in my previous life. They demanded I yield the painting to Jane. I was infuriated and resolutely refused to hand it to them. However, through their covert manipulations, the painting was ultimately credited to Jane. Thus, the national award that guaranteed admission to a university naturally became Jane's. They didn't even bother to inform me. They let me believe my guaranteed admission was a done deal, making me stay at home for three months and causing me to miss that year's SAT entirely. I confronted my parents through my tears after everything was over, asking why they had done this to me. Their response couldn't have been more indifferent. "Oh? Didn't we tell you? We must've been so busy handling Jane's university admission that it slipped our minds." I felt my heart break when I saw my parents' nonchalant expressions. I knew they hadn't actually forgotten. They were simply afraid that if they told me, I would cause a scene and ruin Jane's chances. I had no choice but to repeat my senior year, and by the time I finally got admitted into a university, something had happened to Jane again. She didn't have any talent for art to begin with, so she ultimately failed eight consecutive courses at the university and was on the verge of being expelled. My parents then suggested once again that I give up my own art exhibition—which I had spent half a year painstakingly preparing—to Jane, just so she could graduate without a hitch. I absolutely refused them back then, so my parents pulled some strings again. Before the art exhibition began, every single one of my paintings had somehow inexplicably been changed to bear Jane's name. I broke down and yelled, "How can you be so biased? Is Jane your only child? Do you only feel happy after taking everything away from me?" Dad responded by slapping me hard across the face. "How can you be so selfish, Yvonne? If Jane weren't in such poor health that she couldn't overexert herself with art and schoolwork, she wouldn't even need your things! "You're truly an ungrateful brat who doesn't know how to share or show any consideration! What's the use of being smart or talented? Your mother and I certainly won't be able to depend on you to take care of us once we grow old." Just like that, my things were stolen from me yet again. In my previous life, it wasn't until the moment I died that I finally understood—things that could be stolen from me probably never belonged to me in the first place, just like that award-winning painting, the art exhibition, and Mom and Dad's favoritism. There were still some things they could never steal from me, though—my inherent talent and ability to learn. I snapped out of my thoughts and looked up at my parents. I then nodded and said, "I'll let Jane have it, then." Dad looked surprised. He clearly hadn't expected me to agree so easily. Mom stroked my hair and said with a relieved smile, "You've truly become more sensible, Yvonne. I'm so glad you see it this way. Sisters are supposed to watch out for each other, after all." Afterward, they took Jane by the hand with a sigh of relief and went out for a celebratory dinner. They completely forgot that I was still at home and that I had just sacrificed so much for their beloved daughter. Chapter 2 It seemed like my compliance ultimately made my parents feel a bit guilty. They returned home that evening and presented me with a cello from my favorite brand. It was something that had never happened before in my previous life. In the days that followed, I went to school and went through the motions. I absorbed every piece of knowledge I learned until I understood it completely. When I got really tired, I'd just play my cello for a little while. I could temporarily forget about the pain of being neglected in the midst of the melodious music. But even that small moment of peace was ripped away by Jane. That day, despite never liking musical instruments, Jane suddenly decided she wanted to learn to play the cello. She picked up the heavy instrument despite her frail constitution, intending to take it to her bedroom. However, she ended up dropping the cello on the stairs, smashing it to bits. She even scraped the skin off her hand in the process. Jane looked up at me with panic in her innocent-looking eyes. "I didn't mean to, Yvonne. I'll fix your cello right away!" I looked straight into her eyes, nodded, and said, "Alright." Upon hearing my response, Jane immediately knelt on the floor and began gathering the broken pieces of the cello. The strings that had snapped out of the soundbox cut her tender hands. When Mom saw the blood well up on her hands, she rushed over and pointed at me furiously. "Do you really have to go this far over a mere cello? Do you honestly think we would've bought you this stupid thing if Jane hadn't begged us to? "You spend all day fussing over these inanimate objects and can't even spare a thought for Jane's health. No wonder nobody likes you, Yvonne!" Mom's words pierce my heart like a knife, leaving behind a deep and agonizing wound. It was true that I was an unlikable child to begin with. It turned out that even this cello was just a handout from Jane. I lowered my eyes and said, "You don't have to bother fixing the cello. I suddenly don't like it anymore." Jane, holding her injured fingers, cried weakly. "How can I leave it like this? I already said I was going to fix it for you, Yvonne." She knelt on the floor, trying to continue piecing together the cello that had been smashed to bits for me. The very next second, Dad slapped me hard across the face. "What the hell is your problem, Yvonne? Do you not know how to talk like a normal person? Jane is already upset because of what happened, and you're making it worse! We never should've brought that stupid cello home in the first place!" I felt absolutely no pain from the slap, even though Dad put all his strength into it. I could only feel a stinging pressure around my eyes, as though tears were about to fall. I looked at my parents, who were glaring at me like I was their worst enemy, then bowed sincerely to Jane. "I'm so sorry, Jane, but I honestly don't need you to fix it for me. It's all my fault. I won't ask for a cello again." I would never ask for a cello again, nor would I ask for them to be my family. But I would absolutely never allow them to take the things that truly belonged to me again. Chapter 3 From that day on, I threw myself into my studies with even greater determination. I knew that only by becoming strong through my own efforts would I one day have the ability to leave my family. It wasn't long before the SAT arrived, and I did even better on it this time around than I had in my previous life. Dad nodded with satisfaction the moment the scores were released. Then he said, in a tone that left no room for argument, "You did pretty well with a score of 1,580. Don't bother applying anywhere else. Just go to the same university as Jane." Mom quickly chimed in, "Your father is right. You should just go to the same university so you two can look out for each other." I found it utterly absurd. It had always been me taking care of Jane. There had never been any such a thing as "looking out for each other". I lowered my head, concealing the wry smile playing on my lips. I had scored 1,580 on the SAT, yet they actually expected me to throw it away and apply to a university known for its art program. It was obviously just to make sure that, just like in my previous life, I'd be ready to act as Jane's stepping stone to help her graduate without a hitch. I couldn't fight back, though. I'd already tried that once in my previous life. Back then, I'd made it loud and clear that I was done being a stepping stone for Jane. I was determined to go to a university in a different city, far away from hers—and that was exactly what I did. I'd submitted an application for a university and major I'd chosen well in advance, while strictly guarding the account details and password for the admission portal. It hadn't mattered. They'd still found a way to alter my application. Dad had paid top dollar for a skilled hacker to change it at the very last second. I had no choice but to give in as well in this life. After all, I knew that, at the time, I stood absolutely no chance against them. Seeing how obedient I'd become, Dad was uncharacteristically pleased and rewarded me with an expensive set of paintbrushes. It was something that I used to love, but they had always been unwilling to buy it for me. I had long since stopped caring about those paintbrushes, though. My dream had already been shattered the moment they made me give up my award-winning painting to Jane. I walked into the university once again, and just like in my previous life, my parents made me pick the same Fine Arts major as Jane, just so it would be more convenient for me to take care of her. This time, however, I chose to double-major in law. I had extraordinary academic results, so the law school approved my double-major request almost the moment I submitted it. I spent my first three years of university juggling classes and part-time jobs. My parents didn't give me any money for living expenses, so I had to work on days I didn't have classes. I did odd jobs at galleries and art museums. I went to wealthy families' homes to paint large-scale artwork for them, and I went out to the streets to paint promotional signs and murals for businesses. I did whatever job I could find, and though it was exhausting, it felt incredibly rewarding. I looked at the balance in my bank account, counting down the days until I would escape my family's control. I quietly anticipated the moment that day would finally arrive. In the meantime, everything was going according to plan. Then, just like in my previous life, Jane failed eight of her major courses at once and was on the verge of being expelled. The moment my parents found out, they rushed to the art museum where I worked part-time. Dad slapped me hard across the face before I could even say anything. "How could you fail so badly as an older sister? Why didn't you tell us Jane was failing so many classes? We gave you all that money for living expenses, and instead of staying on campus to watch over your sister, you ran off to work part-time jobs! Is that how an older sister is supposed to behave?" I clutched my cheek and swallowed the metallic taste of blood in my mouth, though swallowing it only made my heart ache with a sharp, bitter pain. I looked up and silently stared at Mom, who was standing nearby. The moment our eyes met, Mom looked away guiltily. She then tugged at Dad's arm and said softly, "You shouldn't speak to Yvonne like that. She only took the job because she didn't have any money for living expenses." Dad snapped, "How could Yvonne not have any money? Didn't we agree on 2,000 dollars a month for Jane and 200 dollars for Yvonne? Where did all that money go? I smiled faintly and looked back at Mom. Mom fidgeted, rubbing her hands together, and said reluctantly, "I gave that money to Jane. I mean, you know she's in poor health and needs more financial support. "Yvonne is the older sister, and since she's healthier than Jane, she's entirely capable of earning her own living expenses. That's why I sent all the money to Jane instead." Dad looked at me in shock. He had never imagined that I hadn't been given a single cent for expenses. But his surprise lasted only a second. He turned his fury back on me, snapping, "It doesn't matter if you didn't get an allowance! Your part-time job here means that you won't starve to death any time soon! Why couldn't you watch over Jane, then? "You're rotten to the core! You just want to see Jane fail. You intentionally sabotaged her! You're truly a terrible person, Yvonne!" Mom also turned on me in disgust and said, "Your father's right. You're still alive and well, aren't you? Why couldn't you show some concern for Jane? You're just cruel by nature!" Their words cut through me like a knife to the chest, and despair crashed over me like a wave, leaving me breathless for a moment. I'd already been reborn and had long since had no expectations for them, but their actions still left me utterly devastated. I supposed that was the thing about family—some things just wouldn't go away no matter how much one braced for them. Thankfully, this was the last time they would be able to do this to me. I managed a wry smile and asked, "What do you mean I never said anything about Jane's situation?" I took out my phone and pulled up our chat history right in front of my parents. It clearly showed that I'd told them everything about Jane skipping classes, fooling around all day, and facing the risk of expulsion for failing her courses at the end of the semester. Jane and I were completely different. She was the one who had all of our parents' love. The moment she started university, she used the massive allowance they gave her to hang out with a bunch of trust-fund kids. She spent all her time partying, leaving her with no time or energy for her studies. Plus, she was completely untalented to begin with. Even though she managed to get into this famous university using my paintings, the complex technical terms in the textbooks and lectures were completely incomprehensible to her. She couldn't grasp them at all, so failing her classes was inevitable. However, my parents had refused to believe me. They'd just sneered when they read my message and had replied, "You're just jealous of Jane and can't stand to see her succeed. What do you mean by failing classes and not graduating? Jane is so smart. There's no way she wouldn't be able to graduate. "She's just in poor health and doesn't want to study properly. Otherwise, she'd be far more talented than a bookworm like you! If you ever badmouth Jane or tattle on her again, you can forget about being part of this family, Yvonne!" They'd assumed the worst of me. They'd refused to believe the fact that their most favored daughter was incompetent. Upon seeing the chat history, my parents' faces instantly turned completely pale. They opened their mouths as if to speak, but no words came out. I left them standing there in shock. I turned and walked into the art museum, going right back to finishing my shift for the day. After all, if I didn't complete my tasks, I wouldn't get paid. I knew that even though my parents now knew the reality of my lack of funds, they still wouldn't give me a dime. I only had myself to rely on. Just as expected, once they saw me get back to work, Mom and Dad—who now knew the whole truth—walked away hand in hand without a shred of guilt. They didn't spare me a single parting word or show an ounce of concern. I gazed at their retreating figures and assured myself that it didn't matter. I told myself that if nobody wanted to love me, then I would love myself. I was certain that a day would arrive when I would find the person who truly loved me. Chapter 4 My parents stayed in town for two months, but aside from the day they came to confront me, I never saw them again. They were completely wrapped up in handling everything for Jane, pulling strings to get her connected and planning out her future. They were overwhelmingly busy. It wasn't until a few days before my art exhibition that they came to find me again. I was in the studio, getting everything ready for the upcoming exhibition. My parents looked greedily at the perfect pieces of art lined up around my studio before they openly told me the exact same thing they had said in my previous life. "We've asked around and found out that Jane needs to hold an exclusive art exhibition to graduate as a special exception. You should just give credit for these paintings and this art exhibition to Jane, Yvonne." I stared at my so-called parents, wondering how they could say something so heartless with a completely straight face and without a shred of guilt. Their favoritism had reached a point where they no longer cared how deeply they hurt me, as if I were made of stone, incapable of feeling anything at all. In my previous life, I had screamed at the top of my lungs, asking them how much more they wanted me to yield to Jane. I had already surrendered the entirety of their love to her, so I couldn't help but ask if I really had to hand over my entire life, too. Dad responded by slapping me hard across the face, followed by a string of completely baseless accusations. "Do you really think Jane wants your things? She's only relying on you because of her poor health! If she were healthy, with how smart she is, she'd easily accomplish far more than you ever could!" They used their usual tricks to manipulate me. They wanted to force me to compromise. I had poured all my heart into the paintings. I couldn't part with them, nor did I want to. I fought them with everything I had, but on the opening day of the exhibition, I realized the poster at the entrance that originally displayed my name had been mysteriously swapped for Jane's. I then discovered that every single one of my paintings had also been re-signed with her name. Once again, my parents bought their way through, stealing what was mine and giving it to Jane. Thanks to the exhibition, Jane became an overnight sensation. People praised her as a young, gifted artist when all she did was steal the credit that should've belonged to me. I tried to expose their crimes to the public, but my parents used a psychiatric evaluation to throw me straight into a mental asylum. I resisted the treatment, so I was beaten to death by the unscrupulous nurse who worked there. I snapped out of my thoughts and looked at my parents, who were entirely confident of getting their way. I smiled faintly and said, "I'm sorry, but I'm not going to back down this time." They flew into a rage at my response, calling me an ungrateful child. They accused me of abandoning Jane, who was in poor health, instead of supporting her. They cursed me to a horrible end and threatened to disown me. I looked on coldly as they played the same tricks as in my previous life. Still, I stood my ground and didn't give in. Seeing that I wouldn't budge, Dad raised his hand to strike me again. "You disobedient, ungrateful brat! I'm going to beat the life out of you!" Just as his hand was about to land, a lean figure in a white shirt suddenly bolted out from the side. He violently shoved Dad to the side and shouted, "You're not allowed to hit Yvonne!"