Because of a cigarette butt, my mom sent me to a special school. It wasn't really a school. It felt more like a place of nightmares. I begged her over and over again to let me return home. But she only cared about my little brother and stepfather. Later on, I realized that the day my mom remarried, she had stopped being a mother to me. Yet when did she cry when I died? Hadn't she already abandoned me?

After being kidnapped for three days, my sister and I were finally rescued. My mom, a doctor, pulled all the medical resources together to give my terrified sister a thorough check-up. She ignored the fact that I had a serious heart condition that needed immediate care. Even when I pled with her to help me, all I got was an angry shout. "Your sister nearly got scared into a heart attack. Can you try to be a bit more understanding? Stop making excuses for attention!" In the end, I sat alone in a corner and breathed my last breath. But later, my family, who had never really cared for me, each felt regret for how they had acted.