The Sun Doesn't Rise for Me

After I'm forced to climb to an altitude of 15 thousand feet, my parents, Brian Parson and Mona Holcomb, abandon me halfway up the mountain while I suffer from altitude sickness. "Sunrise is only an hour away. Your sister has been looking forward to seeing the sunrise illuminate the mountains for two months. We can't let you ruin it for her." The moment the car door shuts, Mom's voice cuts off. By the time I reach the hospital at the foot of the mountain, an hour has already passed. The doctor says I'm barely conscious and could deteriorate at any moment, but they need a family member to sign the consent form before they can administer oxygen therapy. My vision goes black, and it takes me several tries before I finally manage to dial my parents' numbers. Five minutes pass. As the phone continues to ring without an answer, I gradually struggle to breathe. Perhaps Mom and Dad can't answer while driving, so I try calling my older brother, Jared Parson, who has left before them. "Jared, I'm at the hospital. I have altitude sickness—" Before I can finish, he cuts me off impatiently. "You're already at the hospital, so why are you telling me this? I'm busy taking photos of Ida. If there's nothing else, I'm hanging up now." Just before the call ends, I hear Mom shouting in the background. "Change to the side angle. Ida says the background needs to look a little more interesting." My ears goes numb from the incessant beeping. As the call screen disappears, a new message pops up in the "Forever Family" group chat. It's a group photo of my parents, Jared, and Ida standing with the mountains glowing golden in the sunlight behind them. The message before that is my own message about being unable to reach them while suffering from altitude sickness. An hour passes, and not a single person responds. Chapter 1 At 4:00 am, after suffering through a night of headaches, I had only just drifted into a light sleep when the sudden glare of the lights jolted me awake. My temples throbbed painfully. "Nicole Parson, stop lazing around in bed. Get up and pack your things. We're going to see the sunrise illuminating the snow-capped mountains!" I forced myself to sit upright. "Mom, I think I really do have altitude sickness. Can I—" My mother, Mona Holcomb, cut me off with a glare. "Keep your voice down. Ida is still asleep. Stop making excuses to be lazy. Once you've finished packing, go wake Ida up." The fluorescent lights in the guesthouse were painfully bright. Mom was so intent on letting my twin sister, Ida Parson, get a little more rest that she failed to notice how pale I looked. The small room I had been assigned was crammed full of luggage. My older brother, Jared Parson, was busy adjusting the camera, swapping lenses, and fine-tuning the focus. My father, Brian Parson, was occupied with pulling out Ida's favorite snacks from the suitcase and stuffing them into her hiking backpack. No one noticed that I was feeling unwell. Not one of them even said, "You don't look too well." The way they looked at me made it seem as though I had committed some unforgivable sin simply by remaining in bed instead of getting up. With great difficulty, I forced a few words through my swollen, sore throat. "I have altitude sickness, so I can't go any higher. Why don't you all go without me?" Jared shot me a glance, his tone exceptionally icy. "There you go, pretending again. We're all eating the same food and staying in the same place, so why are you the only one with altitude sickness?" My fingers tightened slightly around the bedsheet. "Jared, we agreed before the trip that I wouldn't go above 15 thousand feet." While researching for this trip, I came across a post about someone with rhinitis who suffered such severe altitude sickness after going to a high-altitude area that they nearly died. At the time, Jared told me not to let people online scare me. He said that as long as we planned the trip properly and avoided running or jumping around, we were unlikely to develop altitude sickness. Mom and Dad also said, "You and Ida finally made it to graduation, and Ida's been looking forward to seeing the sunrise over the mountains for ages. If you really feel unwell when we get there, you can always stay at the foot of the mountain and wait for us." It was the first time my family had taken me along on a trip. Not wanting to spoil everyone's fun, I gritted my teeth and acquiesced. To make it easier for us to get up early and catch the sunrise, Mom had booked a guesthouse located right on the mountainside. The altitude here was nearly 13 thousand feet. As soon as we finished checking in yesterday, my heart started racing. Jared fiddled with the camera in his hands, not even bothering to look at me again. "If you don't want to go, just say so. Ida wants to take a family photo before the sun rises over the mountains. Nicole, are you making up excuses to ruin her fun because you're still bitter that she wouldn't accommodate you and go to Florus?" Tears welled in my eyes, and Jared's figure gradually blurred before me. It wasn't that Ida had refused to accommodate me, but rather Jared and our parents had broken their promise to take me to see Lake Serene. On the day our acceptance letters arrived, Mom and Dad had asked us where we wanted to go for a vacation. Before we started high school, they had promised that if I could get into a top college, they would take me to Florus to see Lake Serene. It was a place I had been longing to visit for more than a decade. Clutching the acceptance letter from one of the country's top colleges, I tentatively spoke up. "I want to go to Flo—" Before I could finish, Ida excitedly interrupted me, "I want to see the sun rise over the mountains!" My gaze fell on the acceptance letter in Ida's hands. She had only gotten into a community college. Noticing me looking at her, Ida grinned and stuck out her tongue playfully. "Mom, Dad, you're not going to refuse to take me just because I didn't do well on my SATs, right?" Mom gently patted Ida's head. "Of course not. I'll book the plane tickets right now." Dad chimed in, his voice warm and reassuring, "Ida, no matter how well or poorly you do on your exams, we'll always love you." Only then did I realize that their attention had been fixed on Ida the entire time. Neither of them had even spared me a glance. "What about me?" I asked. Chapter 2 The laughter in the living room abruptly died away, and Mom's smile froze on her face. "Of course you're coming with us. We're a family, and we're all going together," she said. "Then what about Lake Serene? You promised you'd take me there," I retorted. Dad said impatiently, "We'll go some other time. Ida's already upset about doing poorly on her SATs. As her older sister, you should learn to give in to her." It was the same old excuses—"some other time" and "give in to her". I stood there dumbly, blinking. Still, I couldn't stop the sting of tears from welling up in my eyes. No matter how well or poorly Ida did on her exams, Mom and Dad would always love her. But even the love I had supposedly earned by getting into a top college had to be given up for Ida. … Jared slung his camera bag over his shoulder and stood up. As he walked out, he said, "Nicole, Ida is your younger sister. She doesn't owe you anything." I lay back down and wrapped myself in the soft, fluffy blanket. The salty tears that trickled into my mouth tasted bitter. They could keep putting off their promises time and again and turn a blind eye to my suffering. "Nicole, what are you still dawdling for? You're the only one left! Ida is waiting to take a family photo!" Mom dragged me out of bed, then threw a jacket over me and shoved me into the back seat of the car. A road sign flashed past, displaying an altitude of 15 thousand feet. I couldn't stop retching. Bile churned violently in my stomach, making me feel as though my insides were turning upside down. "Mom, I-I feel like I'm going to throw up!" Dad slammed on the brakes, and I hurriedly shoved the car door open with all my strength. I caught Mom's reproachful expression in the rearview mirror. "Why didn't you say something earlier? We're already halfway there! Now you're holding everyone up!" Ida handed me a bottle of mineral water. "Yeah, Nicole. If you're not feeling well, then so be it. We look identical anyway, so just pretend I'm taking the family photo on your behalf. Your health is what matters most. Hurry back and get some rest." Squatting by the roadside, I vomited until I was too weak to stand. Even so, I couldn't help letting out a bitter laugh. Since Ida and I were identical, she could take my place in family photos—and even in Mom, Dad, and Jared's hearts. Half a minute later, the sudden roar of an engine shattered the silence. Dad had started the car. "We haven't even been driving for ten minutes—just walk back to the guesthouse yourself. We still have to take Ida to see the sun rising over the mountains, and we won't make it in time if we drive you back." "Dad, hurry up and drive," Ida called out. Leaning against the leather seat, she waved at me before slamming the car door shut. "Jared's already set up the camera and has been waiting for us. We're definitely going to take the most beautiful family photo ever!" With that, the black SUV sped off into the distance, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake. At dawn, Mount Alpenglow was eerily silent. For five miles in every direction, not a single car or person was in sight. I gasped for breath, unable to tell whether it was the dust or the pain in my chest that blurred my vision. Was Ida's family photo really that important? So much so that Mom and Dad would rather abandon me, someone suffering from severe altitude sickness, in the middle of nowhere than spare ten minutes to drive me back? By the time I reached the hospital, an hour had already passed. An elderly couple, Joel Curran and Whitney Eaton, had found me by the roadside. They had been driving up the mountain to watch the sunrise, but they still drove me down. I had refused their help several times. After all, they had already driven halfway up the mountain, and I couldn't bear the thought of making them miss the sunrise. Mrs. Curran handed me a cup of warm water and gently reassured me, "The weather has been lovely lately. There'll be plenty of other days to see the sunrise. Even if we don't get another chance to see it, that still wouldn't make it more important than your health." The warm steam curled up from the cup, bringing tears to my eyes. It was a kind of care and preferential treatment I had never experienced before. The doctor said I was barely conscious and could deteriorate at any moment. However, they needed a family member to sign the consent form before they could administer oxygen therapy. Chapter 3 My mind was hazy, and I couldn't remember how many times I had called without getting through. Thinking that Mom and Dad might be unable to answer their phones while driving, I called Jared instead, who had left much earlier. "Jared, I'm at the hospital. I have altitude sickness." He fell silent for a long moment before saying, "Are you seriously still making a fuss about us not taking you to Florus? Ida and you are twins—you have the same genes, so why are you the only one who makes such a big deal out of everything?" I parted my lips, desperate to defend myself with a simple "I'm not". But it felt as if my throat were stuffed with a wad of wet cotton. I couldn't force out a single syllable at all. "Enough. Try acting your age for once. I'm busy taking photos of Ida." Mom's voice suddenly rang out through the phone. "Change to the side angle. Ida says the background needs to look a little more interesting." The next second, the sharp beeping made my ears ring. "Give Nicole oxygen. I'll sign the consent form," said Mrs. Curran, the woman who had brought me to the hospital. She handed me a bowl of steaming chicken soup, then took a pen and signed the consent form. "If anything happens, I'll take responsibility." The doctor could tell that without someone signing the consent form on behalf of my family, I might not survive the day. He hesitated, as though he wanted to say something. But in the end, he remained silent. My phone vibrated twice. A WhatsApp notification appeared, alerting me to new messages in the group chat named "Family Forever". Ida had sent three consecutive family photos, each taken from a different angle. In the background, Mount Alpenglow glowed brilliantly golden beneath the sunrise. The oxygen flowing into my lungs gave me enough strength to open my eyes and make out the four of them embracing each other, their faces beaming with happiness. My paternal uncle, Glenn Parson, commented, "What a beautiful family photo. Ida really does have the best ideas." My paternal aunt, Jeannette Parson, remarked, "Is that Ida in the photo? She gets prettier every day." Whenever only one of the two daughters appeared in the photo, everyone instinctively assumed it was Ida. "But don't you have two daughters? Where's Nicole?" I stared intently at the chat window, a faint glimmer of hope rising in my heart. How would Mom and Dad explain this? Would they finally realize that I was genuinely ill? The next second, that fragile hope came crashing down. Mom replied, "Nicole is still throwing a tantrum. She's so upset that we didn't take her to Florus that she's even pretending to be sick. She almost made Ida miss the sun rising over the mountains. Honestly, that girl is such a handful. How is she ever going to manage in the real world?" Once again, Mom laid me bare in front of everyone without a second thought. I hadn't missed the family photo because I was throwing a tantrum or faking an illness. I was lying in a hospital bed, receiving oxygen for altitude sickness because they had insisted on taking me to such a high altitude. I took a photo of the IV drip in my arm and sent it to the family group chat. I had just started typing a few words to explain myself when Mom's voice call came through. So she could see my messages after all. She just didn't want to reply. "Delete that photo right now! Have you no shame? You're making a scene in front of outsiders and embarrassing the whole family!" Suddenly, an overwhelming sense of helplessness washed over me, leaving me too drained to explain myself. An SMS from the airline appeared on my phone. "Your flight to Kasgiri departs in 22 hours and 37 minutes." Kasgiri was the next stop on Ida's carefully planned graduation trip. But I didn't want to go anymore. The earliest flight to Florus, Yuvo was at 10:00 am tomorrow. I tapped the rebooking button to change my flight. Then, I left the family group chat and blocked them all. Since I could never count on their promised "next time", I would make my way to Lake Serene—the place I had spent more than a decade longing to visit—alone.