Twice Rejected

"Die! Die! Die!"

My mother screamed, her grip in my neck tightening as she did so. The right side of my face kissed the dirty ground, as hot and painful tears rolled down my cheeks.

My mother's tears dropped on my face as she screamed. I could feel the agony emitting from her tears. But I was no better as I struggled under her tight grip.

I cried and begged for air, whimpering in pain. I wanted to scream, but I could not. She held my throat so tight, my vocal cords became useless. I was slowly becoming dizzy, my tears blurring the vision of our burning house.

"Please." I muttered barely audible and the pains that shot through me began to weigh me down.

That was the only word I could think of, the only word that could come out of my mouth. But that word was not directed to my mother.

But it was a plea to the only person that gave me solace. My father.

I was begging my father to come out of the fire and save me from my mother.

"You cursed child! I always knew that you were a baggage from hell! How dare you kill my husband?! You sent him back into the fire and now he's dead!" My mother wailed in uncontrollable agony.

Like an arrow shot through my heart, my mind refused to believe what my ears just heard. It can't be true, right? I looked at my mother with wide eyes filled with uncertainty and…horror.

"Dead?" I managed to cough out.

My mother's words stung my ears without mercy. My heart tightened in my chest, like she had dug her hands inside, squeezing it just as she was holding my neck in a firm grip.

"Daddy can't be dead! He just can't be dead! He promised me! He promised me he would be back with Mr Waffles." I thought out loud.

I had to convince myself that he had only gone back in to get my favorite toy - Mr Waffles, the teddy bear he bought for me.

And that was the only memory I could have had of him.

"I am going to kill you! You would die for what you have done!" Her screams grew louder with threats.

Then she heard a whimpering and a tug on her shirt. My twin sister's cry jolted my back back to reality.

Hanola, my twin sister, kept clutching my mother's dress, and crying at the top of her lungs.

My mother who was about to bring down hail and brimstone on me totally forgot about me and all the death threats she had made in a split second.

She immediately released my neck and rushed to hold her golden baby, Hanola. I watched as mother and daughter sat on the grass and wept in each other's arms, not minding me anymore.

I didn't know what happened, but I began to gasp for air. Breathing was becoming painful, and the air was