The fire spread over my entire body, the pain so intense I thought my skull would split open.
“Mom! Dad! Please—save me! I’m burning alive!”
My mother’s face twisted with disgust. “You debt collector! If it weren’t for you, your sister would already be married into a rich family, and we’d all be living in peace!”
“Burn her!” my father snarled. “I’m cursed to have a daughter like you!”
By the time a neighbor rushed over with water and doused the flames, my body was already charred, my face unrecognizable. I lay there half-conscious, wishing for death.
But even then, my father grabbed my arm, twisted it hard, and shouted, “You little bitch, stop playing dead and give me the money you owe for living here!”
In this life, I couldn’t hold it in. I burst into tears.
“Mom, Dad, I have to tell you the truth—I’m sick. My medical bills cost a fortune. I’ve borrowed tens of thousands from friends just to stay alive. If you have any money, could you lend me some?”
My father’s expression changed instantly. “We don’t have a penny to spare!”
My mother’s tone softened slightly. “What kind of illness needs so much money?”
“Uremia,” I said between sobs.