Stole My Sight, Lived My Life

The moment the heart monitor flatlined, I thought my life was over.Scenes flashed across my mind, finally settling on the moment I pulled open the door and saw Everly Wallace for the first time.The day she arrived, I was sipping on some imported medicine, curled up on the huge cashmere couch in the living room.The door opened, letting in a draft carrying the dusty scent of the countryside.Everly stood in the doorway, looking thin, gaunt, and almost weed-like. Her clothes were worn, and her fingers clutched a tattered cloth bag. Her eyes were dull and cloudy—just like mine, yet entirely different."This is your sister, Everly," my mother, Jessie Dillard, said flatly without making a move to pull her in.Everly didn't say a word. She just kept her head low.I quickly realized Mom didn't seem to like her at all.Looking at this girl who shared 90% of my face, I felt an odd heaviness press down on my chest. From that day on, I gave her everything I had, including new dresses, i

When I drifted into the ward, Mom was carefully dampening Everly's lips with a cotton swab.Dad stood beside the bed, his gaze locked on Everly's gauze-wrapped eyes with the same deep focus I once thought I had received—but perhaps I never truly did.He was rarely home back then, and even when he was, he spent most of his time in his study.Yet with me, he granted almost every request. Whatever I asked for, it would appear on my nightstand by the very next day.I used to think Dad was just naturally reserved and that men simply didn't know how to express love. Because whenever he looked at me, there was always an impenetrable distance in his eyes.Right now, that layer of detachment had completely dissolved.A few days later, when the gauze came off, Everly opened her eyes and called out softly, "Dad."That single word brought tears to Dad's eyes. He pulled her into a tight embrace, and his shoulders trembled.I had called him that countless times, only ever receiving a measure

Before Grandma passed away, she had held my hand and said, "Juliet, if a soul leaves this world carrying heavy burdens, especially unaddressed wrongs and buried truths, it will wander the mortal realm until it lets go of its attachments or sees the truth behind what happened…"Looking at my transparent body floating in midair, I suddenly understood why I was still here.It wasn't that the Grim Reaper refused to take me, nor was it the mercy of God. It was simply that I couldn't bring myself to leave.The printed words on that medicine bottle acted like a rusted lock, chaining me tightly to the living world.I stared blankly at the peeling label on the floor, my spectral form feeling as though it had been plunged into an ice cave.Fleeing the kitchen, I bumped into Brielle in the hallway. She was holding the scarf I had given her.Mom walked over, glanced at it, and said, "Throw it out. She's gone anyway. Looking at it just ruins my mood."Brielle looked conflicted. Her lips part

Late at night, in the study, I focused all my consciousness and stared intently at the locked drawer of the desk.With a faint vibration, the lock popped open.Inside, there were no documents. There was only a faded hardcover diary and a carved wooden plaque.I picked up the plaque. Engraved on it were the words "Never Forget".The word "Never" was meticulously traced in gold powder, glittering with brilliance.Yet the word "Forget" behind it was faded and dull, like a footnote tacked on as an afterthought.Underneath the plaque was a thin slip of paper with Dad's handwriting. "Praying for Everly. Her eyes are the only thing we must never forget in this life."The date was the exact year they brought Everly back from the countryside and "officially" introduced me as her twin sister.I willed the diary open with my mind. Pasted on the first page were two tiny footprints, with the names "Gemma" and "Valerie" scrawled beside them in childish handwriting."Our little princesses ar

I was completely imprisoned within the very light I had surrendered.From that moment on, I became a captive inside her pupils, forced to experience firsthand everything I had once craved but never truly possessed.I felt the tenderness of Mom's fingertips as she brushed her long hair and heard Dad's patient whispers as he taught her to read.When sunlight poured into the new art studio and Everly mixed her very first colors, I saw the unguarded admiration and joy in their eyes.During those days trapped within Everly's vision, I clearly felt her change.At first, she would occasionally stare into space, her fingers mindlessly tracing my old ragdoll.Yet whenever that happened, Mom would step in at just the right moment and use new gifts to divert her attention.Gradually, Evely brought me up less and less. She began to fully absorb the "narrative" Mom and Dad had constructed for me—a sister who had fawned over her out of pure guilt and ultimately "repaid" her by giving her my c