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When I was four, my younger brother, Noah, and I both drowned. Only I survived, and from that day on, Mom hated me. At night, countless times, she'd try to force colorful "sweets" into my mouth, but Dad always stopped her just in time. Later, I cut off my long hair, shed my princess dresses, and tried desperately to live as Noah's shadow. Only then would Mom spare me a glance. Three years passed. Mom became pregnant again, announcing that her beloved Noah had returned! I was happy for her. Noah was coming back, which was great... Because then, this family wouldn't need me, the replacement, anymore. I found the "sweets" Mom had once tried to feed me, and quietly swallowed them. The "sweets" dissolved in my mouth, releasing a bitter taste. I couldn't help but hunch over, dry heaving, bile and saliva rising to my lips. These were the pills Mom had hidden in the