3
539words
"Mom and Dad are pillars of the music industry. Without their careful nurturing, there wouldn't be the me of today."
"They have never been biased. It's my older sister who always envied their love for me."
Ann Lawrence, dressed pure white, parted the crowd and walked in gracefully.
Her eyes were red and swollen, as if she'd been crying for hours.
"Isabelle, you must stop this. Mom and Dad have already suffered so much because of you. Isn't that enough?"
"If you want the Gold Music Award, I'll give it to you! You want Mom, Dad, and Brother's love? I'll give it all to you!"
"Please, stop this madness. I can't bear to see you like this..."
She broke into tears, dramatically kneeling beside my bed.
I grew agitated, struggling to type a message with my palm,
[You're lying! I wrote that song! I have proof!]
The room buzzed. Reporters took pictures, but their disbelief was palpable.
My brother pulled Ann to her feet, frowning deeply.
"It's not your fault, Ann. Don't be like this."
He turned a hardened gaze on me.
"Isabelle, stop making excuses. I don't want to see you sink any lower."
Then, he whispered something to Ann.
Ann's face turned pale. She bit her lower lip hard and shook her head desperately.
"No, I can't. That would completely ruin Isabelle's reputation..."
"We're past that! If you don't bring out the evidence now, she'll just keep denying it and attacking you!"
My brother grew impatient boiled over, his voice rising.
Everyone heard clearly that Ann apparently had evidence to conclusively prove my plagiarism.
My parents also sighed, urging Ann to produce it quickly.
Under the collective pressure, Ann slowly produced a few sheets of paper.
They were clearly my original handwritten drafts!
Even the crossed-out lyrics were exactly the same, word for word!
Ann spoke through tears, explaining the inspiration behind the song.
She actually knew exactly what was in my heart, even recounting my entire creative process.
I stared at her in horror, only able to emit low, guttural sounds.
How could she know all this? Impossible!
ButI was given no more chances. The reporters urged me to present my evidence.
I frantically searched my phone, only to find all the draft notes I had stored were gone!
In despair, my parents and brother finally shooed the reporters away.
My mother held me in her arms and cried.
"Were the bodyguards you posted at the door useless?! Letting them just barge in like that!"
"Isabelle, I'm sorry. It's our fault for not protecting you closely and letting them break in. We'll have your brothersuppress the news! It doesn't matter which of you wrote this song. You are both our good daughters!"
My heart was full of despair and bitterness.
Doesn't matter?
Then why did you destroy me for Ann Lawrence?
Why let me be tortured and my reputation ruined
And now, after achieving your goal, you act out thishollow show of family love.
Isn't it sickening?
A wave ofnausea overwhelmed me.
I vomited a mouthful of blood.
"Isabelle!"
"Isabelle!"
As darkness swallowed me, I heard my parents and brother frantically calling for doctors.
