Love Only After I'm Gone

The September wind brought a chill as it blew through the window. I was staring at the beautifully wrapped box of mooncakes in the cupboard.
That was brought back by Dad from out of town yesterday. He specifically told Mom that it was for older brother Henry.
Older brother is three years older than me and has always been the favorite of our parents.
He's good at school and knows how to talk, but I'm always clumsy and mess things up.
Today, Mom and Dad aren't home, and older brother has gone to a friend's house to play.
The cupboard door wasn't shut tight, and the sweet smell of the mooncakes crept into my nose like little bugs.
I swallowed hard; it felt like two little voices were fighting inside me.
One said I shouldn't eat it because it's for older brother; the other said just eat a small piece—no one will notice.
In the end, greed won over reason.
I tiptoed over, took a mooncake from the box, and carefully took a bite.
The sweet filling melted in my mouth; I had never tasted a mooncake so delicious.
Before I knew it, I had eaten the entire mooncake.
I panicked and quickly put the mooncake box back in its place, wiping the corner of my mouth, afraid of leaving any trace.
But I didn't expect my older brother to come back so soon.
As soon as he walked in, he headed straight for the cupboard. When he opened the box, he immediately shouted, "One of my mooncakes is missing!"
Mom heard the shouting and came running out of the kitchen.
She looked at the mooncake box, missing a piece, then at my evasive eyes, and immediately understood.
"Ryan, did you eat it?" Mom's voice was cold, her eyes burning with anger.
I kept my head down, too scared to say anything, clutching the hem of my shirt tightly.
"I'm talking to you!" Mom stepped forward and grabbed my arm so hard it hurt—I nearly cried.
"It... it was me." I whispered quietly.
"Who told you to eat that? How many times have I told you—it's for your older brother!"
"How can you be so thoughtless!" Mom's voice got louder, and she even spanked my bottom.
I cried loudly from the pain, but Mom ignored my crying and instead grabbed the remaining mooncakes from the cupboard, slamming them hard onto the table in front of me.
"Don't you love eating them?"
"Today, I'll let you eat as much as you want!"
"Eat all these mooncakes—don't leave a single piece!" Mom pointed at the mooncakes on the table, her eyes full of an unyielding command.
I looked at the dozens of mooncakes on the table, trembling all over.
With so many mooncakes, there's no way I can eat them all.
"Mom, I won't eat anymore. I know I was wrong. Please don't make me eat anymore." I grabbed Mom's sleeve, begging.
But Mom brushed my hand away, "Now you know you were wrong? What took you so long? You have to eat them! No dinner, no sleep until you finish!"
Just then, Dad came home.
As soon as he walked in, he saw me crying, Mom angry, and a huge pile of mooncakes on the table.
Older brother immediately ran over, feeling wronged, and said to Dad, "Dad, Ryan stole my mooncake. Mom told him to eat the leftovers, and he even cried."
Dad's face instantly darkened. He walked up to me, pointed at my nose, and scolded:
"Ryan, why are you so useless? All you do is steal food!"
"Your older brother works so hard at school, and that mooncake was a reward for him. How dare you touch it?"
I wanted to explain, wanted to say I just wanted to eat it so badly, but Dad didn't even give me a chance to speak.
He grabbed a mooncake, forced my mouth open, and shoved it in.
Mooncake crumbs choked me, making me cough while tears and snot ran down my face.
But Dad kept stuffing mooncakes into my mouth, and Mom stood nearby, watching coldly, not stopping him at all.
My mouth was packed full of mooncake, the sickly sweet taste making me feel sick.
I looked into Mom and Dad's cold eyes, and Older brother's gleeful face, and my heart felt like it was being cut with a knife.
Why do they treat me this way?
I'm their child too.
I pushed Dad's hand hard, and mooncake crumbs fell all over the floor.
"I don't want to eat! I'm not eating anymore!" I cried out, my voice hoarse.
"You dare refuse to eat?" Dad got even angrier and raised his hand to hit me.
Mom stopped Dad. "Let him eat on his own. If he doesn't finish, he'll just have to stay hungry."
They just looked at me like I was a stranger.
I sat on the floor, staring at the mooncake on the table, then looked at Mom and Dad again, suddenly feeling deeply wronged.
Maybe I was never even supposed to be born into this world?
In this family, having an older brother is enough; I'm just an extra.
From that day on, a seed was planted deep in my heart.
Since they don't pay any attention to me, I'll do something outrageous to get noticed.
Even if it means stealing, even if I get beaten or scolded, at least their eyes will be on me.

Ever since I was punished for stealing mooncakes last time, Mom and Dad have been even colder to me.
They hardly speak to me, and at meals, they always save the best bits for my older brother.
I felt really upset inside, always wanting to do something to make them treat me a bit better.
That day, older brother came home from school holding a test paper with a perfect score.
Mom and Dad were so happy they couldn't stop smiling, and Mom specially made older brother's favorite braised pork.
I watched older brother surrounded by Mom and Dad, feeling incredibly envious.
I also wanted Mom and Dad to treat me like that.
At dinner, I took the initiative to put a piece of braised pork on older brother's plate and said, "Henry, here, eat this."
Older brother didn't even look at me, pushing the meat aside. "I can serve myself. Don't pretend to be so nice."
My hand froze in mid-air, and my face burned hot.
Mom and Dad didn't say anything either, as if they hadn't seen what happened.
After dinner, I took the initiative to help Mom wash the dishes again.
But Mom pushed me away, saying, "You don't need to wash, you can't clean properly, don't just make things worse."
I stood at the kitchen door, watching Mom's busy back, feeling empty inside.
Later, I found out that my older brother liked reading comic books.
I saved up my pocket money for several days to buy him his favorite comic book, hoping to give it to him and make things better between us.
Holding the comic book tightly, I carefully walked to my older brother's room and knocked on the door.
"Come in." My older brother's voice came from inside.
I pushed the door open and handed him the comic book. "Henry, this is for you."
He glanced up and sneered coldly, "Where did you steal this from? I don't want your stuff."
"I didn't steal it, I bought it with my pocket money." I hurried to explain.
"Who knows if what you say is true." After saying that, my older brother pushed me aside.
I lost my balance and fell to the ground; the comic book dropped too, its cover getting damaged.
I looked at the torn comic book, then glanced at my older brother's cold expression, and tears just started to fall.
"Why are you crying? Don't cry in my room, it's bad luck!" my older brother said, then pushed me out and slammed the door shut.
I sat on the floor, feeling both hurt and angry.
Why is it that whenever I try to please them, I always end up like this?
Not long after, something even bigger happened at home.
When Mom was cleaning my schoolbag, she found a fountain pen I had stolen from a store.
That fountain pen was really beautiful, and I liked it a lot, but I didn't have any money to buy it, so I couldn't help but steal it.
Mom was holding the fountain pen, trembling all over with anger.
She called Dad over and threw the pen in front of him. "Look at your son! He's even learned to steal now!"
"It's because you never cared about him that he ended up like this!"
Dad picked up the pen, his face as dark as iron. "Ryan, tell me! Did you steal this pen?"
I lowered my head, not daring to say a word.
"Say something!" Dad stepped forward and grabbed my arm.
"It's... it was me who stole it." I whispered quietly.
"How can you steal? How have we always taught you?" Dad's voice was full of disappointment and anger.
"It's only because none of you ever care about me!"
"You never buy me anything I want, so I have to steal it myself!" I finally couldn't hold it in and shouted.
Mom got even angrier when she heard me. "You blame us for your stealing?"
"When have we not cared about you? What have you lacked in food or clothes? You're just hopeless!"
"Hopeless? If you treated me like you treat Henry, would I be like this?" I argued back through tears.
Dad was so angry he couldn't speak. He pointed at Mom, "It's all your fault! You always spoil Henry and ignore Ryan."
"Look at him now! He's ended up like this!"
"Blame me? Don't you have any responsibility? When have you ever cared about Ryan's studies or life?" Mom didn't back down either.
They started arguing like this, louder and fiercer.
In the end, Mom cried, "We can't live like this anymore. Let's get a divorce!"
Dad's eyes were red too, "Fine, let's get a divorce!"
I stood to the side, watching them argue, seeing this family on the verge of breaking apart, my heart filled with hopelessness.
It's all my fault. If I hadn't stolen anything, if I hadn't talked back, they wouldn't have fought, and our family wouldn't have ended up like this.
I'm just a jinx, a burden to this family.
Maybe if I leave this family, things will get better.

After Mom and Dad argued, they didn't speak for days.
The heavy atmosphere at home made it hard to breathe.
Later, Grandma came.
She saw how things were at home, sighed, said a few words to Mom and Dad, and then decided to take me to Aunt's house to stay for a while.
I don't want to go to Aunt's house, but I have no choice.
Mom and Dad didn't care about what I wanted at all. Grandma held my hand and just walked toward the station.
On the way, I saw my cousin brother and cousin sister.
They're Aunt's kids, several years older than me, and they usually don't really like me.
Grandma told cousin brother and cousin sister to walk with me and look after me on the way.
I looked at them and quietly asked, "Cousin brother, cousin sister, do you like me?"
Cousin brother glanced at me and said, "Who likes you? You're so dumb and always causing trouble."
My cousin also said, "Exactly, my mom even said you're such a troublemaker."
Their words stabbed my heart like needles. I kept my head down, too afraid to say anything more.
After walking for a while, my cousin suddenly pushed me. I lost my balance and fell, scraping my knee and bleeding.
I was in so much pain that tears almost welled up, but my cousin and cousin sister just laughed out loud.
Grandma saw it but only said to my cousin, "Don't be naughty," then pulled me up without even checking my wound.
I looked at Grandma, feeling deeply disappointed inside.
It turns out that in Grandma's heart, I wasn't important either.
When I got to Aunt's house, she looked at me with little expression and just said quietly, "Oh, you're here. Have a seat."
Aunt has a big dog, and when it saw me come in, it barked wildly and even tried to jump at me.
I was so scared that I hid behind Grandma and didn't dare to come out.
Aunt called the dog's name once, and the dog calmed down but still stared at me fiercely.
At night, Aunt gave me a small room to stay in. The room was dark and damp, with a nasty smell.
I lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep.
I miss the little bed at home, I miss the warmth when Mom would sometimes cover me with a quilt, but now, all of that's gone.
The next morning, after I got up, I saw Aunt feeding the dog in the yard.
I wanted to help Aunt with something, so I walked over and said, "Aunt, let me help feed him."
Aunt glanced at me and said, "No need, don't let it bite you."
I was about to say something else when the dog suddenly lunged at me and bit my arm.
I screamed in pain as fresh blood immediately poured out of the wound.
Aunt quickly pulled the dog away, but instead of checking my injury first, she scolded the dog, "Why are you so disobedient!"
I stared at the wound on my arm, then at Aunt's cold expression, and my heart completely sank.
In this family, no one cares about me; no one loves me.
That night, my arm swelled up, and the pain kept me awake.
Aunt just put some ointment on it and never checked on me again.
The more I thought about it, the more wronged and scared I felt.
I don't want to stay here anymore. I want to go home. Even if my parents don't like me, at least that's my home.
In the deep quiet of night, I quietly got up, opened the door, and sneaked out of Aunt's house.
It was very dark outside. I could only follow my memory as I walked forward.
There were no street lamps on the road, only a faint light cast by the moon.
I walked very slowly, my arm still hurt, but I didn't dare to stop.
I was afraid Aunt would find out I'd run away and drag me back.
After walking for a long time, I finally saw the bus station.
I had no money on me and didn't know how to get home.
Just when I was at a loss, a train came along.
I watched the train and suddenly had an idea: I could follow it, maybe it would lead me home.
I walked slowly along the railway track.
I didn't know how long I walked or what lay ahead. All I knew was that I wanted to go home.

As dawn approached, I couldn't walk any further, so I sat down beside the railway track to rest.
At that moment, a train slowly came closer and stopped right in front of me.
An old man got off the train. Seeing me, he asked in surprise, "Why are you here all alone?"
I looked into his kind eyes and couldn't hold back my tears, "I want to go home, but I don't have any money."
The old man sighed and gently patted my head, "Don't cry. Where's your home? I'll take you back."
I told him my home address. He nodded, "I'm just heading that way; you can come with me."
I followed him and boarded the train.
The train was warm. The old man bought me bread and milk and even helped clean the wound on my arm.
"Why did you come out all alone?" The old man asked me.
I told him about what happened at my aunt's house. He listened and said with deep sympathy, "You've had a hard time."
On the train, the old man told me many interesting stories and taught me to recognize all sorts of things on the train.
I hadn't been this happy in a long time. I felt like the old man was my real grandpa.
The train traveled for a long time and finally arrived at the city where my home is.
The old man saw me off at the bottom of my apartment building and reminded me, "Be good when you get home. Don't run around again."
I nodded and said to the old man, "Thank you."
The old man smiled, "No need to thank me. Hurry home now."
I watched his departing figure, my heart full of gratitude.
If I hadn't met him, I don't know how many more hardships I would have to face.
I took a deep breath and pushed open the door.
The house was very quiet. I thought my parents weren't home.
But when I walked into the living room, I saw my parents, older brother, and older sister sitting on the sofa, chatting and laughing, looking very happy.
When they saw me come back, the smiles on their faces disappeared instantly.
Mom frowned, "Why are you back? Who told you to come home?"
My heart sank instantly. "I... I wanted to come home."
Dad glanced at me. "If you're back, then stay. Don't go running around causing us trouble."
I looked around the living room and noticed a new family photo hanging on the wall.
Mom, Dad, older brother, and older sister were all in the photo, smiling happily. But I wasn't there.
I pointed at the photo and quietly asked, "Mom, Dad, why am I not in the picture?"
Mom didn't even look at it. "You weren't home then, how could you be in the photo?"
"But..." I wanted to say more, but Dad cut me off, "Enough, stop talking. Hurry back to your room and don't hang around here."
I had no choice but to quietly walk into my room.
The room was just the same as before, not a bit different, like I had never left.
I sat on my bed, staring out the window, feeling really down.
I thought that after I came back, Mom and Dad would treat me better, but they were just as cold as ever.
Later, I saw Mom cooking in the kitchen and went over, saying, "Mom, let me help you wash the vegetables."
Mom pushed me away, saying, "No need, you go do your homework."
I tried to help Dad wipe the table, but he said, "No need, don't make the table dirty."
I wanted to talk to my older brother and sister, but they ignored me and always avoided me.
I tried hard to please them, but they still didn't like me.
I felt like an outsider, excluded from this family.
After just a few days at home, my parents wanted to send me to Aunt's house again.
I didn't want to go, but I couldn't resist.
Mom took my hand and walked toward the door.
On the way, Mom suddenly got a phone call.
After she answered, her face turned very anxious, and she grabbed me, rushing toward the hospital.
"Mom, what's wrong?" I asked.
Mom didn't answer me; she just ran even faster.
When we got to the hospital, I saw Dad and Henry standing by the emergency room door.
Henry looked pale and very weak.
"What happened?" Mom asked Dad.
"Henry suddenly fainted. The doctor said he needs a blood transfusion, but none of our blood types match—only Ryan's blood type is compatible." Dad said anxiously.
I was stunned for a moment. It turned out Mom had brought me to the hospital to donate blood to my older brother.
The doctor came over and said to me and my parents, "The situation is very urgent right now, and we need to transfuse blood immediately. Please think it over carefully. Do you agree to the transfusion?"
Dad and Mom didn't even hesitate and said, "Yes, do it quickly."
They didn't ask for my opinion at all, nor did they care if I might be in danger.
In their hearts, only my older brother's safety mattered.
The nurse took me to the blood transfusion room.
The cold needle pierced my vein, and my blood was slowly drawn out.
I felt colder and weaker with each passing moment.
I stared at the ceiling and wondered: if I died, would they be sad?
Slowly, I lost consciousness.

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