Let them suffer.

Those three words was a dying curse I wanted to lay on them. Let the boys who had made my life a living hell go through the same pain that I had to go through. Let them feel what I had felt for my entire life. I didn't ask for it, I didn't ask for their mother to look at me with sympathy; I didn't ask to be brought into a family.

I didn't ask to be loved.

And yet I still hoped for it, I had craved for it; ate every bit of it like a starving dog. The small hope I felt when the queen looked at me with her adoring emerald eyes was crushed in seconds by those she had given birth to and those who she still called her sons. They had stared at me as if I should've been an imaginary ghost, I shouldn't have been standing there next to their mother. The little me had thought that they would be the same as their mother; kind and loving. I was disgustingly wrong.

They say that when you die, you get to see your life in a matter of seconds. You relive your memories as if they were portraits. Except, I didnt want to look at any of the memories, I couldn't look at the sadness and the miserable girl who tried to endure everything that her brothers made her face. I was young and stupid. Even when I had laid on my bed, my eyes dull and my body crumbling into ashes I had hoped. At least, for once, I could see a glimpse of warm eyes. Instead, I got happy ones, happy for my death. It was tragic really, to look at those kinds of eyes when you're about to die. Because of those pairs of eyes, did I imagine what they must have felt when they first looked at a dirty poor girl off the streets: unrelenting hatred, a wave of deep anger that burned my very skin.

If there is a god, give me that final wish. Let them feel what I had felt all these years, let them suffer as I had suffered. I closed my eyes, accepting the death that was to come.

~~*~~

Was death supposed to be cold? It was a burning ice that prickled my skin. I shot my eyes open, having the sudden urge to breathe. I grabbed my throat when I couldn't. I was underwater. I was in freezing water, my body turning numb as blight bit my skin. This moment, it was familiar. A hand should be reaching out for me right about now. Is this my death? A ruthless pain that I had to face even when I had gone through everything? Was this god showing his deep resentment towards me? This was a sick joke. There it was, the hand that had reached out for me. Small but strong. The arm wrapped around my waist, bringing me out of the water and tossed me onto a land of snow. I fell on all fours as a merciless cough came over me, vomiting out the water that I had breathed in. Then a gasp and an undying tremble glossed over my body. I should be in bed; I should be dead. I glanced at my hands, they're small. How could they be so small?

"Are you that weak to not be able to swim?! Are you actually stupid or are you trying to make us look bad?" Someone screamed. His voice, it was familiar yet strange. The voice was lighter, squeakier. It was brother Chanyeol. My eyes blurred before I had a good look at him. He glared at me with his frostbitten cold cheeks and lips growing into a snarl. He was small as well, way shorter than he should be and younger. He was still a child. I must be reliving a memory. To think it would feel so real. I let out a small laugh, I think at this moment I had apologized to him. "What are you laughing about?" He hissed.

"You're really a terrible person. Why did you save me? Wouldn't it be better if you just let me die?" I whispered, I had thought about this a few months later when I realized that I would only be treated like a gnat. Why did Chanyeol save me at this moment? "Was it because if I really did die, you would be hated by mother?"

His eyes widened, anger and confusion flashing through his hazel orbs. "I saved you because...Because..." I almost laughed at his confusion. So he never knew why he had saved me either. I could only think that he didn't want his mother to be sad. It was only six months since I've been here. She had doted on me, happy that she was able to have a daughter. Except, I looked nothing like them. I think my parents were from a foreign country because I had blonde hair instead of the brown and black hair that his country had. Though I kept the brown eyes that they had, it didn't stop the light blue eyes that blurred in the middle. The queen was different, she was born here but her father was from a different country. She had green eyes but had brown hair. Remembering this brings me back to when I had wondered where my real parents were and why I had looked so different than the others. Maybe that was another reason why they didn't like me. I looked nothing like them.

"You're just an old and disgusting memory," I muttered. I started getting dizzy, the world around me spinning. It's the cold, it's getting to me. Would I go through another memory once this is over? Chanyeol was getting blurry, he was becoming something forgetful.

"Maybe if you weren't here, I wouldn't have pushed you in there." He huffed. I looked down at the snow, what a jerk he is.

"I hate you." My words became fog out of my mouth. Pressure dug into my mind when everything dotted in blackness. This will be my last time with this memory before I look through another one. My eyes stared deep into his own, burning anger seared my skin. His eyes widened when he looked back. "I...Will always...Hate you." I think those were the last words before I had collapsed into a pit of darkness.<