I drifted upstairs and saw Joyce sitting in the room.
Touching up her slightly smudged makeup, she clutched our father's hand, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
“Dad, isn’t Rose really coming? She’s my sister, and on my most important day of coming-of-age ceremony, I really want her blessing.”
The father who was always stern and cold towards me patted her shoulder and gently reassured her, “She’ll come. I’ve told Matt to reach out to her. We won’t let you have any regrets today.”
He found Matthew in the hallway, his face stern, and said, “Tell Rosie if she doesn’t come today, we will no longer acknowledge her as our daughter.”
“Dad, she’s not replying to my messages, and she’s not answering Mom’s calls,” Matthew said through gritted teeth. “I knew it. Someone like her has no conscience. She agreed just to give us false hope, to ruin Joyce’s most important day.”
Today was Joyce’s most important day. She was about to marry Sean, the man she had been in a relationship with for three years.
Three years ago, when I brought Sean home, Joyce fell for him at first sight.
I still remember how her eyes lit up when she saw him.
That night, she found an excuse to take me out to the beach. She bought me a cup of coffee, and as she swung my arm back and forth, she said, “Rose, I really like guys like Sean. You’re so amazing, you’ll definitely find someone better. Could you let me have Sean?”
I refused. But shortly after returning to the company, Sean broke up with me. I kept asking him why until he got annoyed and slapped me. I fell to the ground, my knee hitting the rough surface, sending a sharp pain through me. He showed no sympathy, only looking at me with disgust.
“Are you still trying to hide the truth from me? Even your family couldn’t stand it and told me everything.”
One morning, when my mother suddenly called me to go grocery shopping with her, my brother Matthew took Sean aside and told him some “truths” about me.
That I was of poor character, that I stole money from classmates, that I bullied my sister, and even had ambiguous relationships with many people during college.
At the end of his story, righteous Matthew sighed deeply, saying, “Rosie is my sister, and I want to stand by her, but I can’t just watch you fall into this hellhole.”
My scraped knee still hurt as I sat on the ground, looking up at Sean, listening to him repeat those accusations.
Hearing his last word, I suddenly lifted my head. He frowned. "What are you laughing at? Still trying to deny it?" I shook my head and smiled. "They're right about everything."
Sean never had deep feelings for me, especially when it was my family—the people closest to me—telling him how awful I was.
The family I cherished and loved.
They ignored me when I was alive, and now they didn't know or care that I was dead.