Under the sympathetic gaze of the doctor, I tilted my head back and swallowed the high-dose painkillers.My life had entered its final three days.Leaving the consultation room, I went to Emma's hospital room.It was warm and peaceful inside. My mom, Marlene Smith, and my dad, Thomas Fulton, were sitting by her side, doting on her."Emma, try some of the cake I made.""Drink more juice, you need the vitamins."The moment I appeared, the atmosphere turned cold."What are you doing here?""So now you're here to bother Emma again when you can't fake being sick anymore?""Jasmine, we won't let you bully her anymore."Mom stepped in front of me, her tone icy.Dad followed, shielding Emma behind him."We can't believe we raised someone as petty as you. If we'd known, we never would've had you."I gave a bitter smile. I used to argue, to shout, to expose Emma's lies. What did it get me? More favoritism for her and more blame for me. I was approaching my end; what was the point of
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