Part 2Second Life: I Only Live for Myself

It seemed like my compliance ultimately made my parents feel a bit guilty. They returned home that evening and presented me with a cello from my favorite brand.

It was something that had never happened before in my previous life.

In the days that followed, I went to school and went through the motions. I absorbed every piece of knowledge I learned until I understood it completely. When I got really tired, I'd just play my cello for a little while.

I could temporarily forget about the pain of being neglected in the midst of the melodious music. But even that small moment of peace was ripped away by Jane.

That day, despite never liking musical instruments, Jane suddenly decided she wanted to learn to play the cello.

She picked up the heavy instrument despite her frail constitution, intending to take it to her bedroom. However, she ended up dropping the cello on the stairs, smashing it to bits. She even scraped the skin off her hand in the process.

Jane looked up at me with panic in her innocent-looking eyes. "I didn't mean to, Yvonne. I'll fix your cello right away!"

I looked straight into her eyes, nodded, and said, "Alright."

Upon hearing my response, Jane immediately knelt on the floor and began gathering the broken pieces of the cello. The strings that had snapped out of the soundbox cut her tender hands.

When Mom saw the blood well up on her hands, she rushed over and pointed at me furiously. "Do you really have to go this far over a mere cello? Do you honestly think we would've bought you this stupid thing if Jane hadn't begged us to?

"You spend all day fussing over these inanimate objects and can't even spare a thought for Jane's health. No wonder nobody likes you, Yvonne!"

Mom's words pierce my heart like a knife, leaving behind a deep and agonizing wound.

It was true that I was an unlikable child to begin with. It turned out that even this cello was just a handout from Jane.

I lowered my eyes and said, "You don't have to bother fixing the cello. I suddenly don't like it anymore."

Jane, holding her injured fingers, cried weakly. "How can I leave it like this? I already said I was going to fix it for you, Yvonne."

She knelt on the floor, trying to continue piecing together the cello that had been smashed to bits for me.

The very next second, Dad slapped me hard across the face. "What the hell is your problem, Yvonne? Do you not know how to talk like a normal person? Jane is already upset because of what happened, and you're making it worse! We never should've brought that stupid cello home in the first place!"

I felt absolutely no pain from the slap, even though Dad put all his strength into it. I could only feel a stinging pressure around my eyes, as though tears were about to fall.

I looked at my parents, who were glaring at me like I was their worst enemy, then bowed sincerely to Jane. "I'm so sorry, Jane, but I honestly don't need you to fix it for me. It's all my fault. I won't ask for a cello again."

I would never ask for a cello again, nor would I ask for them to be my family. But I would absolutely never allow them to take the things that truly belonged to me again.