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Because my older sister, Olivia Foster, said she wanted the whole family to go climb a snowy mountain together, Mom made me tag along, even though I was burning up with a fever. Halfway up the mountain, Olivia and I both started showing signs of altitude sickness, one after the other. Mom didn't give a damn about me. She stubbornly handed the last oxygen tank to Olivia, even though her symptoms were barely noticeable compared to mine. When the rescue team rushed over, I desperately pleaded with Mom to save me first. But she just shot me a look full of disgust and said, "There's not enough room in the car for everyone. Quit pretending to be sick just to get some attention, and don't delay Olivia's treatment." In the end, I died miserably on that vast, endless snowy mountain. That was the end of a life where I was never loved.