On my wedding day, my mother got down on her knees, begging me to give my fiancé to my younger sister.
My brother urged me, “Come on, Jenny, don’t be difficult. Polly has depression, she can’t handle this kind of stress.”
My dad just slapped me across the face. “Quit your crying, you’re bad luck, a real jinx! Why couldn’t it have been you who died back then?”
It's okay. I will die.
But when news of my actual death hit them…
My brother’s usually cold face showed a flicker of panic: “No way, this has to be a hoax!”
My father clutched his heart, wracked with pain: “How could this be? She was so smart, so capable!”
And my mother, devastated, sobbed, “I’m so sorry, Jenny, I’m so sorry!” over and over again.
But I was already gone.
It was all too late.
1.
It was New Year's Eve, and Mom had made a huge spread of food.
The whole family was gathered around the table, all cozy and cheerful.
As the clock struck midnight, fireworks exploded outside.
My family raised their glasses in celebration.
To my brother's career success.
To my dad's prosperity.
To my mother's health.
To my sister's upcoming marriage, wishing her happiness.
Not a single word was spoken for me.
No one even noticed that I was missing.
Until Mom’s cell phone rang.
It was frantic, urgent.
It was a call from me.
She just glared, annoyed, and hung up.
And I was lying there on the cold, hard earth, all hope lost.
I was dead.
Dead on the very night my family was celebrating together.
2.
My soul returned home.
They were all sitting there, watching some holiday special on TV, talking about my sister, Polly’s wedding plans.
Suddenly, tears welled up in her eyes.
“I want to invite Jenny to the wedding, but I’m sure she’s still mad at me. What am I going to do?”
My dad snorted. “Don’t worry about that. We’ll drag her there if we have to!”
“Yeah, it’s just a guy, what’s the big deal?” My brother chimed in, completely unsympathetic.
My mom sighed, a cloud of sadness passing over her face.
“She’s always been a worry. Remember, when I had her, it was twins, and the doctor said she stole the nutrients and that’s why she survived… she was always less than…”
There it was. Again.
I’d heard it all my life.
It was my original sin, the reason my parents and brothers resented me.
They’d always shut me out, looking at me like I was some kind of murderer.
Even when I was just a kid.
I lived in fear and anxiety under their judgment, always crying, always helpless.
I craved their love, but instead they went and adopted another little girl.
They called her “Baby.”
They lavished on her the special love I never had.
They demanded that I atone, giving her everything.
If there was something Polly wanted, if I had it, I had to give it to her.
Little things, like a pen or a doll.
Big things, like scholarships or chances to compete.
Even my fiancé.
I’d met Tom Riley in graduate school. It was like we were meant to be together. We fell in love, and just like most college sw...
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