Where Blood Meant Nothing

The whole time I was stuck in the hospital, my mom and dad did not even visit me once.

It was not until I had sorted out all my problems and was checking out that they decided to pop back into my life.

"We've kept things from you for a decade, but let's be real, you've been a letdown too," they said.

"Jasmine's been crying for you, though. She knows that you saved her life. Just remember who you are and don't stir up trouble, okay?"

Just like that, with a couple of sentences, they tried to wipe ten years of pain and struggle as if it were nothing.

I ran my fingers over the scars that crisscrossed my skin, each one a story of neglect and cruelty from the people who were supposed to be my guardians for the past 18 years.

I massaged my stomach, aching from the cancer that came from never knowing when my next meal would be.

I thought about the fresh bruises my brother gave me, the ones he called punishments.

The jagged line where my kidney used to be was a souvenir from eight years ago. I bit back the bitterness and made up my mind.

"Maybe it's best if I don't come home. You can pretend you've never had me."

The words left my mouth, and to my surprise, I felt lighter.

My dad's response was a slap that turned my cheek hot and red.

My mom's eyes were misty, looking at me like I was the villain in some tragic story.

Out of nowhere, Jasmine came running in, tears streaming down her face, begging for forgiveness.

"I'm so sorry. It should've been me, not you. I'm the one in the way, not you."

She was a mess, threatening to jump off a building, to end it all.

However, nobody seemed to care about her parents, who were still very much alive.

Will, eyes bloodshot, yanked me from the bed and shoved me in front of Jasmine.

"Apologize to Jasmine!" he demanded.

I looked into her eyes and saw not just tears, but a glint of victory, a sneer hiding behind the sadness.

"It's all on me. Don't be mad at her," Jasmine said, her voice barely above a whisper.

I stayed silent, and that was when Will's hand struck my face, hard.

"Helen, are you ignoring me? I told you to apologize to Jasmine!"

My parents glared at me, their brows knitted in disapproval.

"Come on. Is saying sorry really that hard?

"What's that look in your eyes? You don't think you're in the wrong, do you?"

I parted my lips, ready to question them about what I had done wrong.

However, Jasmine chimed in just in time to interrupt me.

"Let it go, Will. Helen didn't do anything. I forgive her."

My parents and brother were quick to sing Jasmine's praises for being so forgiving.

No one cared to ask what I thought before they hustled me back into the sleek, expensive car.

As I watched my family fuss over Jasmine, a sense of unreality washed over me.

When I snapped back to reality, I was already inside the lobby of the place I used to work part-time.

I finally realized it was our family's mansion.

"Your room isn't ready yet. Just pick any room to stay in for now.

"Mrs. Brown, show her to a room, and get someone to tidy it up," Will said nonchalantly before he took off.

The housekeeper gave me a once-over and led me to a room tucked away in the corner of the first floor.

The stark difference between my plain servant's quarters and Jasmine's opulent, fairy-tale princess room could not have been more apparent.

Love and indifference were always that blatant.

Sadly, it took me enduring a life of plain bread and abuse, almost to the brink of death, to grasp that truth.

Blurring into sleep once more, I was jolted awake by a knock at the door.

It was Jasmine, with the servants in tow.

"What's up?"

Jasmine grabbed my hand with unexpected warmth as the servants carried in an array of clothes.

"Helen, I noticed that you don't have any clothes with you. I picked some from my closet for you."

I stared at the clothes, familiar yet distant, and memories of past conversations with colleagues echoed in my mind.

"Jasmine's wardrobe is a parade of the season's hottest trends. So don't let the chic looks fool you. Those are yesterday's cast-offs. To Jasmine, they are as good as garbage."

It seemed as though she intended to dump those pieces of garbage on me.

"I don't want it. Take it back."

"No way. I picked these out just for you..."

Out of nowhere, Jasmine hit the deck.

Will caught the tail end of it and slapped me hard across the face.

"Why are you always picking on Jasmine?"

His slap left me reeling, stars dancing before my eyes.

The blood trickling from my nose was making me woozy.

Right before everything went black, I caught a glimpse of Will's face, twisted in a rare panic. "Helen, what happened to you?"