
424 readers · 10 chapters · 4 free
The system once told me that if my family forgot me completely seven times, I would have to leave this world forever. The first time, they left for my sister Emily Forrest's lavish birthday party, locking me inside while I was delirious with a high fever and convulsions. The second time, my mother emptied all the cash from home to pay Emily's sponsorship fee, forgetting it was the deposit for my heart surgery. The third time, at an important family dinner, my father proudly pointed to my brother Alex Forrest and Emily as his only children when introducing them to relatives. The fourth time, Alex brought back blessing bracelets for everyone from a business trip. Even the golden retriever got one, but not for me. The fifth time, my boyfriend, Jack Rivers, stayed with Emily on the last day of the year because she was afraid of thunderstorms, letting me wait at the station in below-zero temperatures until dawn. Each time the system asked if I confirmed leaving, I shook my head, eyes teary, clinging to a foolish hope that next time, they would remember me. The sixth time was when the family moved into a large villa. My mother called me, who was standing in the empty old house, her voice tinged with a rare hint of guilt. "Mia, we've been so swamped these past few days that we completely forgot to have the moving company notify you. Could you grab a cab and come over?" she said. Her tone was so gentle that my heart ached, and I nearly chose forgiveness once more. Then, dragging my heavy suitcase to the doorstep of the new house, I saw the polished brass nameplate engraved only with the initials of the four of them. Curled in our mother's arms, Emily cooed, "Good thing we didn't add Mia's initials. Once she gets married someday, it would just take up space." Everyone laughed adoringly. No one noticed me standing in the cold for half an hour. In my mind, the system's voice rang out for the seventh time, cold and final. "Ding. Oblivion condition triggered. Host, confirm departure?" Staring at the warm, golden light spilling from inside, I gave a small, firm nod. Inside, the family huddled close, wrapped in their shared warmth. Outside, I no longer needed anyone to remember me at all.