After my parents divorced, my dad quickly married his mistress and had a precious son to carry on the family name. My mom found her second spring and had a new baby, the fruit of her true love. I became the "flaw" in their perfect new lives. Both of them, along with their new partners, kicked me out of the house. Just as I was starving and about to resort to selling myself, the delinquent girl I used to fear grabbed me. She blew a smoke ring in my face, looking at me with disdain: "Are you stupid?" "If they won't give it to you, can't you just take it yourself?" "Steal, rob, whatever. Taking your own parents' money is called justice." 1 I thought she made a lot of sense, so I put it into action. Taking advantage of the time my dad and stepmom took their baby out, I decisively smashed the window with a rock and climbed in. A security guard saw me and shouted, but then realized it was me: "Hey, aren't you Mr. Walker's daughter?" "Why are you climbing through the window instead of using the front door?" I leaned on the windowsill and smiled at the guard: "Forgot my keys, didn't I?" "I left something inside, need it urgently." I've lived in this house for over a decade; everyone here knows me. Naturally, he didn't stop me. Once inside, I started searching. I had planned this in advance. I wouldn't take anything too expensive; if they pursued it, I might have to return it. I'd take food and drinks. The fridge was full of expensive supplements my stepmom used, like bird's nest and collagen. I grabbed a plastic bag and scooped them all up. Also, I needed things that were valuable but not crucial. I circled the house. Looking around, I set my sights on my cheap brother's stroller. It cost a couple of thousand dollars. If I sold it as scrap or second-hand for a few hundred, they couldn't really hold me accountable, could they? Also, my dad had a habit of hiding a private stash of cash. This was something he wouldn't tell anyone about. I felt around the old hiding spot and actually found several thousand dollars in cash. My hands trembled with excitement as I stuffed it into my bag. Then, I loaded my loot onto the stroller and boldly pushed it out. Roxy and her crew were waiting for me at the community gate. Seeing this, they all gave me a thumbs up. "Not bad, Vance." "We thought you'd be too scared to take much since it's your first time." I sneered and raised an eyebrow: "Having suffered once, they definitely won't give me a second chance, so I have to take enough in one go." Roxy was street-smart and had many connections. With a few phone calls, she helped me sell the "stolen goods." By the time my dad brought the police to my door, I had already sold everything. And I had hidden the money in different places. My dad slapped me as soon as he saw me, his face red and neck thick as he roared: "You learned all these bad habits from your mother." "Stealing from your own home." "Officer, this thief with sticky fingers must be taught a lesson." Seeing his self-righteous look, I just wanted to laugh. It was just some supplements and a stroller, things he was willing to buy for his mistress and precious son. But when I took them, he called the police to arrest me? I immediately knelt down and kowtowed, crying loudly: "Dad, I beg you." "I'm so hungry, and I have nowhere to go." "I don't want to be an escort like Auntie said." 2 The idea of being an escort was actually "suggested" by my stepmom when she kicked me out. Hearing this, the police quickly came to help me up. I grabbed their uniforms and cried loudly: "Officer, I want to report that my stepmom used to be an escort." "I have evidence of her taking clients." My dad couldn't hold it in anymore and roared impotently: "You damn girl, what nonsense are you talking about?" I took out the phone I had just bought and handed the evidence to the police officer. This was collected by my mom when she caught him cheating. But when she divorced, she took a large sum of money and didn't report the mistress. I, however, remembered this clearly and secretly uploaded the evidence to the cloud. The police officer looked solemn, as there were transaction records and hotel surveillance footage. "We will investigate this matter." "But regarding your theft..." I hurriedly interrupted the police officer and asked innocently: "Why is taking things from my own home considered stealing?" Silence followed. I clutched my stomach, looking even more innocent: "I really had no choice; they wouldn't give me food." "Officer, can I go to a foster home?" Treat enemies with thunderous rage, but treat others with pitiful innocence. The police officer responsibly asked about the food situation. I decisively revealed the drama of my dad and stepmom: "At first, they left me behind and went out to eat. I couldn't find a single grain of rice at home." "Later, they kicked me out to my mom's place and wouldn't let me stay at home." "They changed the lock password, so I couldn't go back." As I cried and narrated, the police officer's expression grew uglier. My dad yelled: "You cheap girl, what are you talking about?" Saying this, he tried to hit me again. Fortunately, the police officer wasn't useless and immediately stopped him. And gave him a stern warning. This matter was also defined. "She didn't take anything valuable, just some food and drink." "But you, you've committed the crime of abandonment." Because of this, the police officer gave my dad a verbal warning. I thought he would have to swallow this anger. Unexpectedly, when I went to school the next day, the whole school was spreading rumors about me associating with delinquents and stealing everything from home. Roxy asked around and found out that my stepmom's brother went to the same school as me. He was the one spreading the rumors. After all, I had exposed his sister's escort past. Although she wasn't prosecuted because she was breastfeeding, she lost all face. Roxy took the money I gave her, rolled up her sleeves angrily, and was about to go teach that guy a lesson. But I stopped her. Instead, during the Monday assembly, I rushed to that guy as fast as I could. I knelt down and banged my head on the ground. "I beg you." "I will never tell anyone again that your sister was a streetwalker and a mistress." "I didn't want to steal either, but your sister wouldn't give me food." I hugged his leg and cried helplessly. Crying and making a scene: "Little Uncle, I beg you, have pity on me!" He was furious. He came up and kicked me: "Are you crazy?" I immediately clutched my chest, lay on the ground, and wailed in pain. Roxy and the sisters in the school had been briefed. Seeing this, they immediately shouted: "Holy sh*t, what trash." "Bullying a girl~" 3 Mistress, streetwalker, bullying the stepdaughter. In a small town, this was undoubtedly a bombshell. I chose to make a scene when the whole school was present to blow it up. When I was taken to the hospital by ambulance, my mom, who had disappeared for a long time, finally appeared. Looking at me in the hospital bed, she was full of excitement: "You girl, impressive!" "Finally vented some anger for your mom." Maybe it really was satisfying. She finally started showing concern for me, the "failed product." But after a few sentences, she started giving me advice: "Just keep making a scene. That little bastard is an adult now." "If he doesn't want to go to jail, he has to pay to settle it." "Your sister will need money for school and stuff in the future." I automatically filtered out her chatter. I said coldly: "My money is mine. Don't think about spending it on your second daughter." "Otherwise, don't blame me for using the same methods I used on my dad on you." Actually, I don't hate my mom. Meeting my disgusting and shameless dad was just her bad luck. Later, she divorced and luckily met a good partner, having a fruit of love. To live a good life, she had to discard me, the baggage. If she hadn't kicked me out then, her marriage would probably have broken down too. She just chose herself. I spoke decisively and directly. Seeing she couldn't get any advantage, she cursed me under her breath and walked away swaying her hips. I couldn't help laughing. What was I still expecting? Not long after my mom left, my dad came. Looking at me with disgust: "Alright, stop acting, hurry up and get discharged." My stepmom followed closely, arms crossed, looking down at me. But her words were gentle and virtuous: "Why didn't you tell Auntie when your mom kicked you out?" "If I knew you had nowhere to go and no food to eat, Auntie would have called you back home." The two of them teamed up, putting me on the spot with every word, wanting to take me away. The doctors couldn't stop them either, as they were now my guardians. When dragging me forcefully from the hospital bed, my stepmom pinched me secretly. Breathing into my ear like an orchid: "Just wait until you're in my hands, see how I deal with you." Hearing this, I said "Oh." I pressed my whole body onto her. I remembered she had a C-section. One punch, straight to her belly. She said she was going to deal with me. I couldn't just sit and wait for death, could I? She screamed in pain, grabbing my hair. My scalp hurt sharply. I went up and scratched her foxy face. "Stepmom, ouch, it hurts, let go." I struggled constantly, scratching line after line on her face. Even my dad, who came to break it up, almost got his eye scratched out by me. The whole ward was in chaos. The final result was that I was discharged, but my stepmom was hospitalized. My dad had to serve my stepmom. I logically "returned home" and enjoyed the huge house alone. Until various photos of me started circulating online. Coming out of the bath, changing clothes. Roxy gave me a sharp rap on the head without hesitation: "How many times did I tell you to be careful, careful, and more careful." "You didn't even know there were hidden cameras installed at home, taking pictures of you as leverage." "How can you go back to school like this?" 4 I didn't think it was a big deal. After all, I almost sold myself. Compared to those photos, the urgent matter was that my stepmom was discharged. Looking at my stepmom's face full of hatred and ferocity, I shuddered subconsciously. Sure enough, the first thing she did upon returning was to hold me down with my dad and beat me soundly. I protected my head and abdomen, lying on the floor, letting them beat me. Until my stepmom brought out boiling water, about to splash it on me. I heard Roxy shout angrily: "Sisters, get them." The brothers and sisters ambushed in the room rushed out. They pinned my dad and stepmom to the ground and beat them up. A few people, shouting like an army... They didn't use weapons. Just fists and fingernails. Only when they were tired of beating and gave me a look, did I leisurely take out my phone and call the police. After the police arrived, my dad and stepmom went to the hospital again. Me and the group of brothers and sisters were sent to the station. Checking, all were of compulsory education age. Looking at the situation. Dad and stepmom engaging in abuse. Boiling water was about to be used. These people were protecting me; in a sense, it was self-defense. So, we all happily walked out of the station. This time, I went even further. I had people move all the furniture out and sell it. After all, my dad and stepmom didn't give me a single cent. To eat, this was also a last resort. I sold things enthusiastically. The money I got was all deposited into a bank card in my name. Using it sparingly, it should be enough for me to finish high school. Before leaving, I specially collected some swill. Spent a day "working." Striving to fill every corner of this house with surprises. After finishing, I clapped my hands preparing to leave. But Roxy asked me: "Really planning to stop?" "You can blackmail them for at least another three or four years." "With me here, guarantee to train them to be submissive." I was silent for a while, then smiled with relief: "Messing with them vents anger, but I want a broader world." Entangling with them, at best, is mutual destruction. My life is still long. Why delay for a moment of satisfaction? Before my dad and stepmom were discharged, I moved into the school dormitory. The one responsible for signing the consent was my mom. It didn't take much effort. Just took a group of sisters to wander around my mom's new family. She agreed impatiently. After all, she couldn't let her husband have any opinion of her. After moving into the dorm, I put all my effort into studying. Right after I finished my entrance exams, the sisters who had started losing contact suddenly came to find me. They said: "Do you have money?" "Take it out for use."
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