I was freezing, curled into a ball, my head throbbing without reason.

In a blurry vision, I saw my deceased father smiling and reaching out to me, beckoning me to join him.

Instinctively, I reached out, but just as I was about to touch him, I realized he had been gone for years.

I started sobbing loudly, "I don't want to die! I want to live! I still have school to attend!"

The next morning, as my mom was taking my stepsister to school, she discovered me lying in the hallway, convulsing, unconscious.

She knelt down and slapped me twice across the face.

"Lexi, you really play the part well, don't you? Get up, stop playing dead!"

When I remained unresponsive and started foaming at the mouth, she finally panicked.

A neighbor on his way to work saw my condition and hurriedly carried me to the hospital.

The doctor diagnosed me with a high fever from an infected wound and urged immediate hospitalization to avoid death.

Yet, hearing the upfront cost, my mom hesitated.

She tried to pull me off the hospital bed, muttering, "This much for treatment? Why don't you just rob us? Lexi, get up, if you're going to die, do it at home!"

If not for the compassionate doctor who covered my medical expenses and cared for me, I might have died.

On the day of my discharge, she gently touched my head and said softly, "Lexi, take care of yourself. Remember, if you ever face any trouble, come find me."

I nodded, still too naive to understand that she would be my lifeline.

On the way home, I reassured myself quietly, "Just obey, Lexi. If you listen, things will start to look up."

But they didn't.

I never even got the chance to obey.

When I got back home, my stepdad and stepsister still gave me the stink eye.

Whatever I did, it rubbed them the wrong way, triggering a smackdown for no good reason.

That day, my mom made roast pork. Seeing no one around, I couldn't resist; I snuck a piece. I hadn't tasted meat in ages.

Of course, my stepsister walked in just then.

With a nasty sneer, she tattled to my mom, "Auntie, look at the little thief you brought home, stealing meat!"

Tears started rolling down my cheeks. Even the family dog gets meat, so why am I a thief for taking a bite?

My mom slapped me without even asking, knocking me off balance, and my head cracked against the table's edge.

Just home from work, my stepdad saw me clutching my head and jeered,

"What now? Faking an injury to squeeze some cash out of us?"

"If you're that hard up for money, why not make it worth your while and spend the night with me?"

Blinded by anger, I charged him and landed a punch that left him spitting blood.

That night, my mom tore my clothes off and pulled my hair like she'd lost her mind, crying and cursing.

"You're so shameless, always flirting with every man!"

"You should be glad he even looked your way! How dare you strike him, you ingrate!"

"Love flirting so much? Go strut outside naked and show everyone!"

My stepsister clapped along, thrilled, "Yes! Let everyone see just how shameless she is!"

Despite my pleas, my mom and stepsister were unmoved. I ended up outside, clad only in my underwear.

That night, I sat by the door, arms crossed over my chest, face buried in my knees, and drifted off to sleep.

Around midnight, a drunk passed by and, spotting me vulnerable, started to make his move.

I woke up terrified, struggling, but he was too strong and pinned me down, about to force himself on me.

I screamed at the top of my lungs, which woke the neighbors, one of whom came out to check.

A neighbor called the police, who arrived with a social worker. They gave my mom and stepdad a stern lecture and warned them never to let me sleep outside again.

I hoped life would get better, but it didn't.

My mom dragged me back inside, pulled out a fifty-dollar bill, and handed it to me with an apologetic look.

"Lexi, you've embarrassed us too much. If you stay, it'll tarnish your sister's reputation."

"I have no choice. She's more important to me. This is all I can spare. You're on your own now."

I slapped the money away, yelling, "Really? This is pocket change. Are you kidding me?"

"I don't need your money, and I'm done with you for good!"

I left home with nowhere to turn.

With no options left, I ended up sleeping under a bridge.

I used the last of my allowance to buy a knife for protection against the other vagrants there.

Fortunately, nothing happened.

Before he died, my dad had left me a little money. It wasn't much, but it was enough to scrape by if I was careful.

Still, I couldn't just live off that forever. What would I do when it ran out?

Every day after school, I hit up restaurants looking for a job, but no one would hire me because of my age.

I was desperate. One day, I treated myself to a burger in the cafeteria, eating it tearfully.

After I finished, I was about to ask the school office to drop out, when someone blocked my way.

It was the school underachiever, smiling as he looked me over.

"Hey, Lexi, how about tutoring me? Don't worry, it's not for free. I can give you 800 a month."

Desperate for any lifeline, I agreed instantly.

After school, I'd stay back to go over lessons with him.

Over time, feelings started to develop between us, though neither of us said anything.

After one session, he shyly handed me a dress and lipstick as birthday gifts.

He invited me out to celebrate, and I accepted.

I wore the dress and lipstick he gave me, and we linked arms. It was payday for him.

"Johnny, you got your allowance today, right? How about five hundred?"

"You already spent quite a bit on these gifts. I'll cut the tutoring fee this month!"

Unbeknownst to us, my stepsister was watching us from a distance, jealousy written all over her face, clutching a love letter filled with hearts.

When the memory ended, the chat went silent for a moment.

Several jurors looked skeptically at the plaintiffs' table.

My stepdad and mom were pale, my stepsister quietly sobbing.

But no one felt sorry for them, and soon the comments section was buzzing again.

[Damn, outright villainous! Even for family, to say such things! He got what he deserved!]

[Right? And her mom, only offering fifty dollars to her own daughter to fend for herself? Not everyone deserves to be a parent!]

[And that sister, always adding fuel to the fire, then spreading rumors out of jealousy—just vile!]

I stood there, expression neutral. These events were just the tip of the iceberg of my tragic life. I had long lost any hope in my family.

Some in the comments remained cautious.

[Hold on, there might be a twist coming.]

[Yeah, seen it before—big turnaround, and the accuser ends up ruined!]

The screen flickered, and the next charge against me rolled out.