Choosing One Life Over Another

A few days later, under the family's meticulous care, Felix was discharged from the hospital.

Mom was busy packing his things, while Dad had already parked the car right outside the hospital door, afraid Felix might have to walk even a single extra step. And Ashley wouldn't even let him put on his shoes by himself.

On the way home, Mom muttered irritably, "Sean is really something else. He didn't even visit his brother at the hospital even once, let alone apologize. I'm going to teach him a lesson once we get home."

Dad glanced at Mom and said coldly, "I told you keeping him at home was asking for trouble. Sooner or later, something bad was bound to happen."

Hearing the words "teach him a lesson" left me feeling a complicated mix of emotions.

Long-buried memories came flooding back into my mind.

Since I was young, Mom had always favored Felix. I was expected to always give in to him.

It was all because on the day Felix was born, I had accidentally spilled water, causing Mom to slip and go into premature labor.

The sight of him lying in the incubator broke my entire family's hearts.

Dad had smacked me so hard that my eardrum burst. "You're a jinx! Your brother nearly died on the day he was born because of you."

Lying weakly in the hospital bed, Mom had looked at me with eyes full of disappointment.

Then, in elementary school, Dad had beaten me so badly that I couldn't get out of bed for three days—just because I fought with Felix over a toy car.

It was my favorite toy.

Even though it had come as a freebie along with the gift Dad bought for Felix during a business trip, it had become my most cherished possession.

But Felix, who already had boxes full of toy cars, insisted on fighting me for that one. In the tug of war, he suddenly screamed and burst into tears.

Mom rushed over, distressed, and hugged him while crying and yelling at me, "Sean Goodman, your brother has already suffered so much because of you! What more do you want from him?"

"It wasn't me…"

Before I could even explain, Felix squeezed out a few tears and said, "Mom, don't be angry. It was my fault. I shouldn't have made trouble by fighting with Sean over a toy."

When Dad got home and saw that scene, he immediately pulled me aside and started beating me. "A coldhearted kid like you doesn't deserve to stay in this house. Keeping you here is just waiting for a disaster to happen."

I cried and begged him to stop. But the more I cried, the more convinced Dad was that I was faking it, and the harder he hit.

Mom and Ashley just stood at a distance, watching coldly. It was as if I was their enemy, and they wouldn't be satisfied until Dad beat me to death.

From that day on, whenever I made Felix cry, it would mean receiving scoldings or beatings from my parents.

Eventually, I stopped fighting Felix for their love, stopped trying to explain, and stopped trying to get close.

And now, they left me cold and lifeless on the operating table.