Chapter 4
Memories suddenly flooded back.
The present mirrored the past perfectly.
After the summer break when I was seventeen, Vivian finally got what she wanted, she started attending my high school.
Her grades were nowhere near honors level, yet she wanted a spot in the honors class alongside me, the top student in the school.
My dad pulled a lot of strings for her.
He donated money and called in favors.
But the academic dean said there were only thirty spots in the honors class.
Unless someone stepped aside.
"Think about it. Both girls could be in the honors class," the academic dean added.
It was the first time Andy ever asked me for a favor.
He wanted me to give up my spot in the honors class for Vivian.
My dad didn't waste any time.
He transferred me out of the honors class without so much as asking me.
I stormed into the principal's office, clutching my backpack.
Andy rushed over and slapped me hard across the face.
"Are you a child, Emily?" he snapped.
He said angrily: "Who are you throwing a tantrum for?
"Vivian's spot is set in stone. Throwing a fit won't change anything."
My hand trembled as I pressed it to my cheek.
I didn't say a word.
Without a sound, I grabbed my books, walked out of the office, and made my way to the lowest-ranked class in the whole school.
I wasn't being petty.
I wasn't acting out, either.
I've always known that.
Only kids who are loved, protected, and cared for get to throw a fit.
But me?
I never got that.
After I walked out of the hospital.
This time, I didn't reply to Andrew's work emails.
I deleted every way he could reach me.
I shot off a digital resignation letter to the company.
When my life could end any day, why should I care about work?
Funny thing about people, It's only when death is staring you in the face that you can finally be yourself.
I'm tired.
Really tired.
A pale, bloodless face stared back at me from the mirror.
All these years, I've been going through the motions, like I was already dead inside.
There wasn't even a flicker of will to live left in my eyes.
In the middle of the night, a video call from across the ocean jolted me out of my haze.
It hurt badly.
My stomach was killing me.
My head was pounding, too.
I opened my eyes in the dark, still clutching an empty bottle.
I tried numbing the pain with alcohol.
But it didn't help at all.
I answered the call.
Charles Johnson's face popped up on the screen.
His hair glinted gold in the sunlight, making him look almost radiant.
He was standing on a street halfway across the world.
His face was full of worry.
He was the one who got me the job.
Turns out, my boss was actually his buddy.
I never saw that coming.
I couldn't believe how fast he found out I'd quit.
"Emmy. Is someone bullying you?" Charlie blurted out.
Charlie asked, "Why'd you suddenly quit? Did someone pick on you?
"Come on, tell me.
"I'll go kick their ass. "
Hearing his familiar voice, I couldn't hold back my tears anymore.
My eyes were red, and I gripped my chest tightly, my voice choked with emotion.
"Charlie," I whispered.
"I don't have a home anymore," I choked out.
*****
The pain kept me up all night.
I could barely remember what Charles said on the phone, or what he tried to tell me.
All I could recall was the doctor's warning echoing in my head.
The doctor warned, "You can't drink anymore.
"You're speeding up your own death."
But I didn't care. I still held onto that bottle like it was the only thing I had left.
All these years slipped by in a flash.
For me, it was nothing but a nightmare that tore me apart from the inside out.