I was done with life when I decided to jump off the roof with tears in my eyes.

And where was my family?

My parents were happy at their adoptive daughter's first day of high school celebration.

My brother was there too, clicking away with the camera and welcoming his new sister to middle school.

As kids, they always had a soft spot for Ashley Schmitt. Being an orphan, she'd always get a bit more of their sympathy and support.

I was the one who got told to back off if I ever wanted to take back a toy of mine. Any fight was just me being a brat.

Ashley, with no parents of her own, was living up the life that should've been mine.

I had family, but they were always around Ashley.

When I finally wised up, I understood that what they called fairness was really just being partial.

Never in a million years did I think I'd get a second chance in life from the universe. So when I was reborn, I decided this time to just not give a damn about anything.

When I saw my folks holding Ashley's hand, leading her up to my brother and me, it hit me. I was back in the past, a five-year-old again, but with the memories of the past. I was re-living the same nightmare.

Ashley's parents had died in a bad car crash a few days before she was brought. They were my mom's best friends, so my mom decided to take Ashley under her wing.

"Ashley is your little sister now," my mom had said, smoothing Ashley's hair. "You gotta look out for her."

Ashley's eyes were wide and eager, checking out our home. She looked pretty anxious to get her hands on everything.

Before I could complain, she'd play the poor little orphan card to snag whatever she fancied from me.

At first, I was surprised; I did not expect her to be so young and so evil.

"Grace, I'm into your clothes, and I'm into your family, too. I'll grab whatever I like, and you'll end up with nothing." Ashley would say this to me when it was just the two of us.

After that, I understood she did not want me as a big sister; she wanted to take away everything from me.

It always made me furious, and I'd just get into fights with her, but as soon as we fought, she'd play the victim, bawling her eyes out to get my parents' attention.

Then she denied everything she'd said, accusing me of framing her.

Every time, my parents would make me apologize to her and then I'd be the one getting punished.

Mom would sometimes make me skip my meals, and other times, make me kneel for an hour.

If Ashley wanted something, she should get it. If she wanted something of mine, I should not be selfish and I should just give it to her.

After that, my new clothes, my toys, and everything were handed over to Ashley. But that wasn't enough for her. She also took my friends, my innocence, and everything.

Just like Ashley said, she'd take it all from me.

With such an unfair past, why did the universe want me to relive it? I couldn't help but feel down, sad, and desperate.

"Grace, from now on, Ashley is your sister. Don't worry. We are fair, and we'll love you both the same." That was what mom used to say at the beginning.

“We are just a bigger, happy family now.” That was what dad said that day.

Even if Ashley took my stuff without asking, I wasn't allowed to fight back or show any resentment, or else I'd be the selfish one. I was only a month older than Ashley.

And I tried to be nice to her, that first day, I was really trying my best to be supportive and a good big sister.

I offered her some of my toys, I even offered her to sleep with me in case she was afraid. She would just smile at me but wouldn’t say anything.

Then my parents would ask her how she was feeling and she would cry, surprising my parents, my brother, and me as well.

“What’s wrong Ashley? What happened?” My mom asked her.

Ashley, all scared-like, would always cling to my mom and play the victim. "Margaret, does Grace hate me or something? Maybe I should go home."

My mother, who once was so nice and attentive towards me, would now look at me with disapproval and disappointment.

I couldn’t understand why they couldn’t see how she was manipulating them.

My dad looked at me with a mix of emotions. "Grace, we've taken in Ashley, and she's staying with us now. I want you, as her elder sister, to be mature and take care of her."

My brother chimed in, "Ashley, don't be afraid. With me around, no one in this house will dare to bully you." My folks looked at him with approval.

Overnight, Ashley had taken my place as the favored daughter in the Parrish family.

"I'm off to my room," I said, and then I did, locking the door behind me for some peace.

My personality has changed, I wasn't always this shy. I fought back once.

There was this one time when I pulled Ashley aside, and even though I barely tugged, she hit the desk and started crying.

Just for that, my mom slapped me and made me apologize. She didn’t even give me a chance to explain what happened.

That time, I tried to stand my ground with a hunger strike, and even left home, hoping they'd miss me.

I waited for them at our usual park all day, but they never came.

When I finally returned, hungry and shivering, they were all snug in the living room, chuckling at the TV. The coffee table was a feast of snacks.

It was enough to make anyone snap.

I lost it, crushed the snacks under my feet, and got a beating for my outburst. After that, they punished me by taking away my lunch money, and forbid me to go out and play with my friends.

Who got out to play with them? Ashley did, and they all loved her.

They said they weren't playing favorites, but all they cared about was that Ashley lost her parents. Did they ever think about how her arrival affected me?

It was really sad. In my previous life, I tried to fight and please them, but even when I jumped off the rooftop, they didn't care.

My folks had all their love reserved for their adopted girl, Ashley.

She was a golden child.

They wouldn't miss me even if I wasn't around.

So starting that day, I became the invisible one at home, only existing to go to school and do my homework.

At dinner, all the attention was on Ashley.

The dinner table, once filled with my favorite dishes, now only had what she liked.

It was the same old story. Ashley got all the new toys and the best snacks, and I was left with whatever she didn't want.

In their eyes, Ashley seemed like someone who was always willing to help, sweet and caring.

They'd paid a fortune on a fancy notebook for Ashley, but when I asked for a doll, they'd tell me to take one that Ashley didn't want from her collection.

Then I ended up with a doll Ashley didn't want, but my folks never batted an eye.

They always favored Ashley. If I didn't treat Ashley like a princess, I would be the black sheep. In my previous life, it ruined my childhood, but I wasn’t going to let it affect me anymore.

Once Christmas was over, I would throw myself into studying, aiming for a top university. People might pick their favorites, but the future I was working hard for? That was all mine.

On Christmas Eve, Mom and Dad surprised us with two dresses.

As I was heading downstairs, Ashley waved the dresses at me. "Grace, which one do you prefer?"

This was another act from her, because in my previous life and in this one, we never got along, so I just shrugged.

In the past, to punish me, my parents only bought new clothes for Ashley, leaving me with the most used and worn down clothes, becoming a joke throughout the school year. But this time, I nonchalantly chose one of the dresses.

Ashley flashed a sad look and said, "If you like it, I'll gladly give it to you."

I couldn't stifle my annoyance at her act.

However, my parents knew Ashley had her eye on the dress I'd chosen.

My mom then took the dress away from me and held it up to Ashley. "Grace, you're the elder sister. You should let Ashley have it. Let's see the dress on her, shall we?"

The more my mom looked at it, the happier she got. My dad and brother joined in, all pushing Ashley to change into the dress.

Ashley nestled against my mom, her voice barely a whisper. "Mom, Grace isn't too fond of me. Maybe I should return the dress to her."

My brother's protective instincts kicked in, questioning Ashley if I had bullied her.

Ashley shook her head timidly, her eyes wide with fear, making me look bad.

Seeing that, Mom turned on me, "Grace, didn't I tell you to be nice to Ashley?

"You're being so thoughtless. Look at how you've scared her. The new dresses are no longer an option for you. They're both Ashley's now."

No matter how many times I relived my life, that dress was always just beyond my grasp.

I thought, after everything I had been through, I would be immune to this kind of injustice by now.

Yet, the sting of my mom's distrust cut deep.

"Suit yourselves," I muttered, retreating upstairs to shield my tears from their view.

I was their flesh and blood, but why did it always end up being my fault when Ashley cried?

My dad's voice boomed from downstairs. "Grace, march down here and apologize to your mom! Who gave you the right to talk like that?"

My brother climbed onto the balcony, grabbing my wrist trying to pull me out. "You're acting so selfish. Can't you embrace Ashley like we did? She's lost her family, and we're all she has."

His grip on my wrist hurt so deep, probably because he'd forgotten his own promise to protect me.

To end the argument, my dad sent him to take Ashley to watch the fireworks.

With a final glare, my brother stormed off, the door crashing shut behind him.

Their joyous fireworks display unfolded outside, a picture of familial bliss.

Upstairs, I was the silent observer.

Was this the family who had vowed to be fair and just?

They were always telling me that, if I played nice with Ashley, things would go easier for me.

But here was the thing. Ashley's parents were gone, and mine were still around, but they chose to ignore me over her. So, what made my life any different from an orphan?

It was Christmas. I was in the kitchen filling up a pot with water when Ashley strutted in, all dressed up in her newest dress. "Grace, do you think this dress looks good on me?"

I ignored her and tried to move past her.

But she wasn't having it. She latched onto my arm from behind. "I'm waiting for an answer." I frowned, trying to pull away.

She grabbed my other hand, splashed herself with the hot water, and then let out a scream. “Please no Grace!”

“What are you doing?!” I asked her.

"Who do you think Mom's going to believe, you or me?" Ashley smirked, and right on cue, my mom walked in and saw the whole thing, just the way Ashley had set it up.

"Grace, if you've got an issue, you come to me," my mom said, her voice heavy with disappointment. "Why would you do this to Ashley?"

Ashley was all teary-eyed, playing the victim. "Mom, please don't be mad at Grace. It's my fault."

My brother yanked my arm. "Are you jealous of Ashley? You know we have family coming over, and you messed up her dress on purpose?"

My dad's face was a storm cloud. "Grace, you're grounded. You stay here and think about what you've done. Ashley, go change, and we'll all head out for dinner."

Ashley looked like she was about to cry, and my mom was right there, soothing her with gentle words and a soft touch. I used to feel that warmth, but it was a distant memory from another life.

If they had just looked a little closer, only looked at me for a moment, they might have seen the burn in my hand.

But no, they didn't. They all left, a happy little family of four, without even looking back.

As she was leaving, Ashley shot me a triumphant glance, as if to say, ‘Grace, I've won again.’

It didn't take much longer than two weeks for my mom's Instagram to become a chronicle of Ashley's adventures with our family, showcasing their delicious meals and memorable trips.

My brother even brought a cake once, but it was only for her, and they didn’t even share a slice of it with me.

It felt like I was the one who'd been forgotten. Before I died in my previous life, I posted something on Instagram too. "If you don't love me, why did you even have me?"

But all I got was being called a "Drama Queen". Those two words were what pushed me to jump off the rooftop without a second thought.

I spent my whole high school years back then living in that unfairness.

In this life, I avoided all of them, and the absence of constant conflict with Ashley allowed a significant shift in my overall well-being.

The release of tension and frustration brought by the absence of conflict with Ashley had a profound impact on me.

As a result, I woke up feeling more refreshed and energized each morning.I was able to focus more on my studies and witness great improvements, while Ashley remained stuck in a cycle of average grades.

No matter how much effort she put into it, she couldn't reach my pace.

When the second semester of our senior year started, the school announced a parent-teacher conference.

This was normal, every semester, and my parents would never come to mine, but I wanted to be optimistic, so I told my mom about it.

I thought she would go, but she said, "Grace, you know Ashley has been struggling with her grades since her real parents passed away. We've already promised to go to her conference. You understand, right?"

Did I understand? No, I didn’t. I never understood why they had a preference for her over me.

In my previous life, I had let all of it affect me, and my grades were bad, and because I wasn't doing well, my dad said it would be embarrassing for him to be there.

Now that Ashley was the one with the poor grades, they couldn't miss it for the world.

I thought I was past feeling hurt, but I found myself saying, "Mom, could you come for me? Ashley has Dad with her."

But my mom just frowned, "Grace, I thought you'd be more considerate. It's an important day for Ashley, and we need to be there for her."

Of course, it was an important day for her, not me.

They were sure to be there for their adopted daughter, and it was fine for their own daughter to go to the parent-teacher conference alone.

I must have been crazy to think that maybe, just maybe, if I did well, my mom would care about me a little more.

It turned out that some things would never change.