Ever since I was young, I've always been the one made an example of. It's as though I exist solely to teach my older brother, Irwin Blanchard, a lesson.

When Irwin spends 50 dollars in an online game, Mom makes me pay off the debt for Irwin so that she can teach him to cherish money.

When Irwin gets caught for stealing, Mom forces me to kneel down in front of the store owner and slap myself repeatedly while begging for forgiveness. This is her attempt to teach Irwin to always feel shame and be humble.

After Irwin starts junior high, he gets addicted to soft drinks. That's when Mom fills soda bottles with pesticide and places them in the most obvious spots in the living room.

When I accidentally drink from a soda bottle, I'm in so much pain and agony that I keep rolling all over the floor.

Dad quickly drives me to the hospital that night. On the way there, we are flagged down by a traffic officer, who's there to catch those who drink and drive.

Even though Dad has already passed the breathalyzer test, Mom exclaims while laughing, "Your device really is useless! He already had a bottle of beer, and yet it couldn't even detect the alcohol in his breath!"

Meanwhile, I feel as though my guts are on fire as I curl up in the backseat. Yet, Mom turns to stare at Irwin.

"You see now? This is what you get for drinking!"

Too engrossed in nagging Irwin's ear off, Mom fails to notice the fact that my breathing is growing weaker.

Mom, are you happy now that your lesson has cost me my life?

"This breathalyzer of yours is really useless. My husband drank a whole bottle of beer, and you couldn't even detect it."

When I heard my mom, Rosanna Stewart, say this, I was convulsing in pain. I sprayed a mouthful of blood onto the car seat and looked at her in disbelief.

The traffic officer's expression immediately darkened. "Sir, please step out of the car. We're going to need you to take a blood test."

My dad, Tyrone Blanchard, looked at Mom, his eyes so bloodshot that they seemed about to bleed.

"Are you out of your mind? You know perfectly well I'm allergic to alcohol! Stop joking around—Helena's dying."

My older brother, Irwin Blanchard, threw himself at Mom's side, grabbing her arm and shaking it desperately.

"Mom, please stop joking around!" he begged, his voice trembling uncontrollably. "Helena has pesticide poisoning. If we delay any longer, she's not going to make it!"

Yet, Mom insisted that Dad had been drinking. Even though the breathalyzer had cleared him, the traffic officer was required by protocol to take Dad for a blood test.

Dad was the only one who could drive. Irwin didn't have a license. If this dragged on any longer, my life would really be over.

Just as the traffic officer was about to pull Dad out of the car, I used every last ounce of strength to push myself up and pleaded hoarsely, "Officer, my dad hasn't been drinking. My mom just likes to talk nonsense. Please, let us go to the hospital first. I have pesticide poisoning. I can't hold on much lo—"

Before I could finish, another violent coughing fit seized me, and large mouthfuls of blood spilled from the corners of my lips.

The traffic officer's expression changed instantly at the sight of me.

Pesticide poisoning was no small matter.

But right now, it was in the middle of rush hour, and the intersection was completely gridlocked.

There weren't enough officers assigned to the DUI checkpoint here to begin with—everyone was on duty as it was. So, there was simply no way to spare any personnel or a vehicle to take me to the hospital.

The traffic officer glanced at the body camera that was recording, then barked sternly at Mom, "Did your husband drink or not? If he didn't, you're all free to go right now.

"But if he did, we're taking him in by the book, and whatever happens after that is on you."

I wept and begged Mom, "Mom, please, just tell the truth. I can't hold on much longer. If you just tell the truth and save my life, I'll accept whatever scolding and punishment you want to give me later."

The passersby around us couldn't stand it anymore either and started speaking up.

"Ma'am, you heard what your daughter said. Right now, the most important thing is to save her life!"

"Exactly. What kind of joke is more important than a human life?"

Hearing the criticism, Mom finally waved her hand dismissively at the traffic officer.

"Alright, alright, what's the big deal? I was just messing around."

The knot in my chest finally loosened. My body, which had been rigid with tension, just went limp all at once.

But just as the traffic officer pulled back her hand and Dad was about to start the car, Mom chuckled softly.

"You people are so gullible. My husband drank quite a bit at his class reunion today. If you'd let him go just like that, he'd definitely run over and kill a few people."

The traffic officer's face turned livid. She yanked Dad right out of the driver's seat and barked at her colleague to take him back to headquarters for a blood test.

I nearly couldn't catch my breath. The excruciating pain in my stomach and the suffocating tightness in my chest twisted together, and my vision went black. I almost passed out right then and there.

Irwin, watching my body convulse uncontrollably, couldn't take it anymore. He screamed hysterically at Mom, "Mom, have you lost your mind? Can't you see Helena's already in a critical condition?"

Mom just replied calmly, "Oh, pipe down and take a good look. Today, I'm going to teach you a lesson through Helena's suffering, so that you'll commit it to memory.

"Never touch a drink when you don't know where it came from, and for goodness' sake, stop guzzling soda all day long."

My eyes widened in disbelief.

It was literally a matter of life and death, and Mom was actually using it as a teachable moment for Irwin!

Dad was trembling with rage, his voice cracking. "Helena is barely holding on, and you still—"

He was so furious that he couldn't even finish his sentence, but Mom was completely unfazed.

"I diluted that bottle of pesticide with quite a bit of water, so it's not nearly as potent. Besides, Helena is young and fit. Honestly, I don't understand what you're so worried about."

She turned to Irwin, her tone growing even harsher.

"I've had it with you pounding back a soda or two every day. Today, I'm going to make darn sure this lesson sticks."

I lay there, the burning sensation of the pesticide searing its way from my stomach all the way up to my throat. All kinds of sounds blended together around me, but I could barely make them out anymore.

Just then, a car suddenly pulled over to the side of the road, and a middle-aged man strode quickly toward us.

It was none other than Dad's childhood best friend, Ronny Ramirez.

He said loudly to the traffic officer, "Officer, I grew up with Tyrone and watched both his kids grow up. I haven't had a single drop of alcohol today, and I have records to prove it.

"Let me take Helena to the hospital for emergency treatment. You go ahead and check Tyrone for drunk driving however you're supposed to, but you absolutely cannot delay saving Helena's life."

Irwin, holding my increasingly cold body, instantly reddened at the eyes. He thanked Mr. Ramirez again and again, barely able to form complete words. Then, he ran toward Mr. Ramirez's car with me in his arms.

Dad also choked back tears and told Mr. Ramirez that he would do everything in his power to repay him afterward.

Curled up in Irwin's arms, even as the searing pain in my stomach nearly tore me apart, I finally let out a breath of relief.

Mr. Ramirez was Dad's best friend. If he took me to the hospital, I could get my stomach pumped, receive treatment, and survive.

But just as Irwin was about to carry me into Mr. Ramirez's car, Mom suddenly rushed over and desperately clung to the car door, refusing to let us get in no matter what.

Everyone froze, and the scene fell into instant silence.

Irwin was shaking with fury, his arms trembling even as he held me.

"Mom, what are you doing now? Mr. Ramirez is here to save Helena's life! Get out of the way!"

But Mom stared daggers at Mr. Ramirez and shrieked, "Who are you? I don't even know you! Why should Helena get in your car? What if you're a human trafficker?"

The second those words left her mouth, we were all stunned. Even Mr. Ramirez looked totally blindsided.

"Rosanna, what are you talking about? It's me, Ronny! I grew up with Tyrone. We just had dinner together last month, don't you remember?"

Dad was also dumbfounded. He rushed forward and grabbed Mom by the arm, his eyes filled with shock and fury.

"Rosanna, have you lost your mind? How could you possibly not know Ronny? He sent gifts when both Helena and Irwin were born. Every holiday, we all had dinner together, and you were there every single time. And now you're saying you don't know him?"

"That's right!" Mom shook off Dad's hand and remained dead set on blocking the car, refusing to budge an inch. "There are plenty of people in this world who look alike, so why should I trust him? What if he's a con man? If anything happens to Helena, can you take responsibility for that?"

Irwin, holding me and watching my breathing grow weaker and weaker, finally broke down completely. He dropped to his knees with a thud in front of Mom, weeping and begging, "Mom, please stop this! Helena's dying!

"Any later and there really won't be any saving her! Mr. Ramirez watched us grow up—he would never hurt us!"

But Mom remained utterly unmoved.

Dad was so furious that he clutched his chest tightly and roared, "Rosanna, how long are you going to keep this up? Helena is our daughter, for crying out loud! And she's dying! Just what on earth are you trying to do?"

"What am I trying to do?" Mom suddenly raised her voice, her tone both aggrieved and venomous. "You should know this is all your fault!"

Dad was instantly stunned. "What does Ronny kindly coming to save Helena have to do with me? What did I even do wrong?"

Under everyone's disbelieving gaze, Mom finally screamed out the truth hysterically.

"Last week was the 20th anniversary of the day we first started making eyes at each other! I gave you two weeks' notice to celebrate it with me, but you completely forgot about it. You didn't even wish me a happy anniversary.

"Tyrone, you've got such a shit memory that you can't even remember a single day that has anything to do with me. Well, now I'm going to show you what happens when you go through life not giving a crap about anything!"

Dad just lost it. "Rosanna, can you be reasonable for once? How many anniversaries do you have to celebrate in a single year? Our wedding anniversary, dating anniversary—you even make us celebrate the anniversary of our first date and the first time we held hands!

"Name one time I didn't take it seriously. Back then, I had just taken over a new project. I was surviving on two hours of sleep a night and was practically running myself into the ground. That's the only reason it slipped my mind!

"But right after, I gave you my debit card to make up for it. So, why do you still have to bring this up now?"

When Mom saw Dad had the audacity to talk back, her anger flared even hotter.

"What gives you the right to yell at me? If you messed up, the right thing to do is to own up to it. Just because I accepted your debit card doesn't mean I forgave you! And you know what else? Back when you married me, you said you loved how romantic I was. Now all of a sudden I'm too much for you?"

Dad knew there was no reasoning with Mom. Seeing me fading in and out of consciousness in Irwin's arms, he was so frantic that he dropped straight to his knees in front of the traffic officers.

"Officers, I promise I'll take the test. But please, can you get my daughter to the hospital first? She drank pesticide by accident and is barely hanging on. If we don't get her there soon, she's not going to make it."

The two traffic officers quickly helped Dad to his feet.

One look at me, barely clinging to life in Irwin's arms, and they hastily briefed the backup officers who'd just freed up to assist. Then, they lifted me into the patrol car.

With sirens blaring every inch of the way, we finally burst through the ER entrance.

I figured once they wheeled me into the trauma bay, I'd be out of the woods. But then, Mom started up again.

I had just been lifted onto the operating table when the door to the trauma bay was violently shoved open.

Mom charged in and tried to yank the IV line out of my hand.

"Your money-grubbing hospital just wants to rob people! What a scam! She just drank a little bit of diluted pesticide, and you have the nerve to demand ten thousand dollars for the surgery fee?"

Irwin was frantic, his eyes red-rimmed. He was still in school and couldn't possibly come up with that much money. All he could do was desperately pin down Mom's hand, weeping and begging her to stop causing trouble and just let the doctor save my life first.

Mom shoved him away violently. "How could I possibly hurt my own daughter? I only put in a tiny bit of pesticide—it's nowhere near enough to kill her.

"This hospital's just jacking up the price because they see we're desperate. Helena's not getting treated here. We'll take her to another hospital!"

As she said this, she tried to drag me away. The nurses had to use every ounce of their strength just to hold her back.

As the stalemate dragged on, Dad came rushing in after having his blood drawn. Seeing this scene, he completely lost his mind. His eyes were terribly red.

"Rosanna, if you cause one more scene, we're getting a divorce immediately! I'll raise both the kids myself, and you won't ever see them again for the rest of your life!"

The word "divorce" instantly threw Mom into a panic. Flustered, she fumbled to pull out her debit card.

Dad and Irwin both heaved a huge sigh of relief, thinking she had finally given in and was going to pay the surgery fee.

But no one could have imagined that she would turn around and bolt out of the room with the card in hand.

Dad and Irwin chased after her like madmen.

The sounds of arguing grew further and further away, until they disappeared completely.

In the trauma bay, only I and a few bewildered doctors and nurses remained.

The pesticide had already burned through my internal organs. My eyelids grew heavier and heavier, and the shrill alarm of the monitor grew sharper and sharper.

The doctors had already brought out the defibrillator, but my consciousness kept drifting upward against my will.

When I opened my eyes again, I found myself floating just beneath the ceiling.

Below me, on the operating table, lay my lifeless body.

Just then, Mom burst in, waving the payment receipt, charging ahead of everyone.

Dad was shaking with fury. "Rosanna, Helena's life was slipping away! Why did you absolutely have to run to the bank to withdraw cash? All that time wasted going back and forth—do you have any idea that those few minutes could have killed her?"

Mom rolled her eyes. "Previously, Irwin clicked on some random link online and got 50 dollars stolen by hackers! Today, I wanted to use this chance to make you all remember just how risky online payments can be, so that you'd never click on random links or transfer money online carelessly again!"

With that, she pushed open the door to the trauma bay.