"Jamie, no!" The car violently swerved to the right,then over the cliff. Everything became dim and hazy. I mustered the strength to shake my brother, hoping he was okay. Then everything went dark again.
I woke up in a hospital room, lying in a painfully awkward position. Instinctively, I tried sitting up, but I regretted it instantly. My entire body echoed with excruciating pain. Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to look around. That's when I saw a familiar face,Nurse Lydia.
It was then that I knew I was in my mother's hospital. Nurse Lydia's eyes, full of pity and sorrow, unsettled me.
Lydia Owusu was a beautiful Black woman in her late twenties. She had worked in my mother's hospital for as long as I could remember, which made the look on her face all the more worrying.
I reached out for her hand, but an immediate, sharp pain stabbed through my lungs and side. I coughed out blood, my face twisting in agony.
I turned my gaze downward, toward the place where the pain was worst. A deep cut ran from my left thoracic side. Alarmed, I asked why I wasn't being treated. Lydia's voice was hesitant,my mother had strictly forbidden the hospital staff from treating me until she gave permission.
My mind reeled. "What about my brother?!",I asked desperately.
Lydia looked puzzled. Here I was, ribs sticking out and piercing my lungs, a deep gash running down my chest,and my first concern was someone else.
"Your brother is fine," she finally answered. "All the surgeons are in his room."
"All of them?" A cold dread tightened in my chest. "Is Jamie in worse shape than I am?"
Lydia didn't reply. Instead, she stormed out of the room in tears. As she left, exhaustion overtook me, and I closed my eyes.
When I opened them again, I was staring at… my own body.
Was I dead?
I struggled to comprehend it. "I died? Here? In my mother's hospital? Unattended? How is that possible?"
No. "No."Maybe my body was in a coma, and my spirit was merely projected outward. "Yeah… that must be it."
I hovered aimlessly for a moment before deciding to check on Jamie. After moving through the halls, I found his room—and everyone was there.
Mom. Dad. Lil Sis. Even my girlfriend, Anna. Nurse Lydia was present, pleading desperately with my mother.
"Please," Lydia begged, "let me treat Jason. He's in critical condition,he could die at any moment!"
My mother's palm struck Lydia's face with a resounding slap.
"Don't you dare speak his name," she spat. "The devil who hurt my son will not be mentioned in my presence. Until Jason apologizes for harming Jamie, he will not receive treatment!"
Lydia's voice trembled with frustration. "Jamie only has a cut on his thigh and a broken leg. Jason's ribs are piercing his lungs! He has a deep chest wound—if we don't act now, he'll die. At least allow me to dress the wound,"
"You dare talk back to me?" my mother snarled. "Security! Take this woman downstairs. She needs to cool off."
The guards escorted Lydia out, but as soon as she left, the mockery began.
"She's probably lying for him," one sneered. "He's fine. He probably bribed her for sympathy so he could escape apologizing!"
Anna chimed in. "Maybe she just likes him and thinks helping him will win her a chance with him."
I chuckled at the thought. "Jealous, huh?" But then, she added something that wiped the amusement from my face:
"Those two scumbags deserve each other."
My chest tightened. My mother's voice followed, filled with warmth,but not for me.
"Poor Anna, you've only stayed with Jason because you're scared of what he'd do to you and your family if you broke up. But don't worry, sweetheart,you've always liked Jamie. And as a mother, I can tell he likes you, too. When he wakes up, I'll coax him to ask you out. You can date him. And we'll protect you from Jason."
I inhaled sharply. "Oh, right. I remember now. My family hates me
It had started when I was three years old. My mother was pregnant with Jamie, and in my excitement, I ran downstairs,accidentally bumping into her. She tumbled down the stairs, took a bad fall, and was rushed to the hospital. When she returned, her cold, unrelenting verdict was set: I had tried to kill her son.
From that day forward, I was the scapegoat. Jamie grew up tormenting me, knowing every misdeed he committed would automatically be pinned on me. He'd break things, steal, and pick fights, always blaming me afterward. And every time, they believed him.
Why would their angel lie? Of course, it was the devil. It was me.
Jamie stirred, gradually waking up. And, as expected, he slipped effortlessly into his usual performance.
"Mom, Dad, Sis, Anna," he murmured weakly, "I'm sorry for making you all worry… Where's Jason?"
Mom, with tear-filled eyes, clutched his hand.
"See how caring he is?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "Even while bedridden, he asks about the brother who has always harmed him,even before birth."
Catherine, our little sister, hugged Jamie tightly, whispering about how much she had worried. The room buzzed with warmth, laughter, and relief.
Meanwhile, I lay cold and alone.
I couldn't bear it anymore.
I left the room, drifting back toward my own.
What I found shook me to my core.
Nurse Lydia was there, wailing. My body lay on the hospital bed, covered from head to toe with a white sheet.
I was dead the whole time.
Rage surged through me like wildfire. I sped through the walls, bursting into Jamie's room, my fists clenched.
I swung at him with everything I had,only to pass right through.
I turned to my family, my voice erupting in anguish.
"You let me die! You let me die! Why?! Why?! WHY?!"
I don't know when it started, but I began muttering under my breath, over and over, a single phrase:
"I'll kill you all."
I repeated it until it was the only thing I could say.
My fury swallowed me whole, stretching minutes into hours, days into weeks. I had lost all sense of time.
Everything lost its color. Its sound. Its life.
Only hatred remained.
Even after Jamie was discharged, their mockery and dismissal never ceased.
And yet, Nurse Lydia,at great personal risk,had my body cremated.
For the first time, my rage faltered.
I had always looked at her, but never truly 'seen'her.
The gentle demeanor. The sweet smile. The unwavering determination.
My hand reached for her,but passed through.
All I could do was watch.
Then, just as Lydia completed the cremation, my mother approached.
With a smirk, she knocked the urn onto the ground, spilling my ashes onto the damp soil.
I stared in disbelief. "Why? Why does she hate me so much?"
She sneered. "Nobody touch that. That's what filth like him deserves."
My fury erupted again, twisting the world into blackened oblivion. But then,Lydia moved.
Slowly, gently, she knelt and began scooping up the ashes.
Bit by bit.
Even when my mother threatened her livelihood, Lydia stood firm.
And as she carried my remains away, she left behind the only people I had ever wished would miss me.
I turned back, staring at the woman I had called "mother."
This time, the rage did not fade