Chapter 4

I stood there frozen, like a robot that had malfunctioned.

When I didn't say anything, Zachary began to panic. "What's wrong? Do you not like them?"

He looked at me, then quietly stole a glance in the direction of Aunt Bella, saying, "If you don't like them, we can go swap them for styles you do like once the party wraps up."

I sniffed, smiled, and shook my head at him. "No, I really like them. Thank you."

When Zachary noticed the redness around the corners of my eyes, he let out a sigh.

"JJ, I heard about your situation from my mom."

He patted my shoulder. "Aunt Christine's mental state isn't stable. You've had to put up with a lot just to accommodate her.

"Once you start college, focus on getting good grades. You can consider applying for graduate school in your third year. You still have your whole life ahead of you. I believe your future will be a good one."

Hearing Zachary's words, I could barely keep the smile on my face.

Could I really still have a future? Could I really leave "Jenna" behind and live on simply as "Jennifer"?

That evening, I got my answer.

…

As soon as we got home, Mom took the art supplies Zachary had given me and threw them straight out the window.

The paints splattered all over the ground, resembling the brilliant bloodstains of a person who had fallen to their death.

I rushed to the window, but before I could even process things, Mom pulled the clothes out of the gift bag.

The lighter's flame flickered to life, illuminating Mom's twisted expression.

"Who gave you permission to accept these things? Jenna would never own things like these. What exactly are you trying to say by bringing them home?"

Upon thinking back to what Zachary had said, I couldn't hold it in any longer. "Jenna is already dead! She's dead! I'm Jennifer! I'm a living, breathing human being! I have my own preferences, and I have my own life to live!

"Jenna died at 18, and I've imitated her for 18 years! Isn't that enough?"

The answer I received was a harsh slap to the face. I was knocked to the ground, and my back crashed against the memorial.

Jenna's portrait fell with a sharp crack, her dark eyes staring at me without blinking.

Mom pointed at me, shaking with rage. "How dare you… How dare you!

"If Jenna hadn't died, you would have never come into this world! What right do you have to take away the future my daughter never got to experience?"

Even though I had long known that Mom didn't love me, hearing those words blurted out still broke something inside me.

I lay sprawled on the ground, facing upward. My palm had been cut open by the broken glass from Jenna's portrait frame, and blood seeped out.

Mom sank to her knees, crying as she reached out and picked up Jenna's portrait. "My Jenna… My baby Jenna… Does it hurt? I'll move you somewhere else."

Carrying Jenna's portrait, Mom walked right past me. Not once did she spare me another glance.

Dad grabbed his coat and hurried after Mom. Soon, I heard the front door slam shut.

I slowly closed my eyes and apologized to Zachary in my heart. "I'm sorry, Zachary. I won't get to see the bright future you spoke of."

The hem of the dress Mom had burned was charred black. It now resembled withered petals. I put it on and looked toward the wide-open window.

I suddenly changed my mind in that split second. I no longer wanted to drown as Jenna had.

In the very last moment of my life, I wanted to end it the way "Jennifer" would. This was the only small act of resistance I could carry out.

I climbed onto the window ledge, then looked around the house for the last time.

Without the slightest hesitation, I closed my eyes and fell backward.