The Family I Don’t Belong To

Wenalin’s POV

I was halfway through another dungeon raid when the knock came.

Three quick taps, sharp and precise. Not the kind of knock you give when you want to come in, but the kind you give when you’re simply announcing, “We’re here. Acknowledge us.”

Before I could even respond, the door opened. Of course it did. Privacy isn’t really a thing in this house.

It was my oldest sister, Serena. Perfect Serena—tall, polished, dressed like she’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine even though it was only afternoon. She had the same glossy black hair as me, but hers cascaded down her back like silk, while mine was tied up messily with a clip.

Her eyes scanned my room like she was inspecting a crime scene.

“Still in here,” she said, her voice dripping with judgment. “Figures.”

I kept my eyes on my screen, pretending to be too busy to look at her. “Nice to see you too.”

“You should come downstairs,” she continued, ignoring my sarcasm. “Mother and Father are home. They want to have dinner together. A family dinner.”

Family dinner. The words felt foreign in my mouth. It had been so long since we’d all sat at the same table.

I sighed and pushed my chair back, stretching my legs. “Fine.”

When I stood, she looked down at me—literally. At four-foot-nine, I always had to tilt my head up when speaking to my siblings, all of whom were annoyingly tall. Serena smirked faintly, like my height itself was some sort of embarrassment.

I followed her down the stairs, my heart beating a little faster than it should. Not from nerves—though maybe that too—but because it always did that. My chest tightened easily, and every step felt like it took more effort than it should. It was a reminder of the thing no one in this family liked to acknowledge: my heart condition.

At the long dining table, my parents sat at opposite ends, looking every bit like royalty presiding over their kingdom. Father was scrolling through emails on his phone while Mother sipped her wine delicately, her jewelry glittering under the chandelier. My other siblings were already seated, chatting quietly amongst themselves, their laughter sharp and practiced, the kind that didn’t quite reach their eyes.

And then there was me.

The moment I sat down, the room shifted—not dramatically, but in that subtle way that said I wasn’t supposed to be here. Conversations slowed. Eyes flickered toward me, then away, as though acknowledging my existence for too long would be uncomfortable.

“Wenalin,” Mother said finally, her tone polite but distant, like she was addressing a stranger. “How have you been?”

I stabbed my fork into the salad in front of me. “Fine.”

“That’s good.” She smiled faintly, then turned her attention back to Serena, asking about some business internship she’d been offered.

And that was it. That was my entire contribution to this so-called family dinner.

I ate quietly, not that anyone cared whether I did or not. My siblings talked about their schools, their careers, their perfect lives that seemed to orbit far above mine. Father nodded occasionally, adding his rare approval when one of them said something impressive.

No one asked me anything else.

At some point, I caught my reflection in the silverware—my round, soft face, the features people once called beautiful when I was younger. My parents used to show me off like a doll at parties. But beauty doesn’t mean much when you’re weak, when you’re short, when you’re… me.

My chest tightened again, but I forced a calm expression. I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing me falter.

When dinner ended, everyone rose smoothly, their chairs barely scraping against the floor. No one said goodnight to me. No one asked me to stay.

I slipped away quietly, back up the grand staircase, back into the only place that felt like mine. My room.

Closing the door behind me, I leaned against it, letting out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. My heart pounded a little too fast, and I pressed a hand against my chest, waiting for it to calm down.

A beautiful face in a family portrait. That’s all I was to them. Something to frame and then forget.

I returned to my desk, turned on my computer, and slipped my headset over my ears.

Because if I was going to be invisible, then I’d rather disappear into a world that actually welcomed me.

Click. Click. Click.

The sound of my keyboard drowned out the silence of a family I could never belong to.

...----------------...

The night felt no different from the hundreds before it. My room glowed faintly in the dark, the only light coming from the computer screen. The rest of the mansion was silent, heavy with that eerie kind of stillness that always reminded me how empty it was.

I leaned back in my chair, stretching my arms, the familiar ache in my shoulders returning after hours of grinding quests. The clock in the corner of my screen read 2:14 a.m. My eyes stung, but I ignored it. I wasn’t ready to stop.

“This dungeon is mine tonight,” I muttered, clicking away as my character slashed through hordes of monsters.

The music swelled as I entered the final boss chamber. My hands flew over the keyboard, my focus sharper than it had been all day. My character dodged and struck, light flashing across the screen. My chest tightened from the adrenaline rush, but I grinned.

“Come on… just a little more…”

But then—

The grin faltered. My chest didn’t just tighten. It clenched. Hard.

The breath caught in my throat, my lungs suddenly refusing to work properly. My vision blurred, and the sound of the game grew muffled, distant, like I was hearing it underwater.

“No… not now…” I gasped, clawing at my chest. The pain spread, sharp and suffocating, stealing the strength from my body.

I tried to stand, but my legs gave out, and I collapsed beside the chair. My fingers trembled as I reached out for something, anything—my desk, the edge of my bed—but everything slipped away.

Air. I needed air. My heart hammered violently, then staggered, then hammered again like it couldn’t decide whether to keep going.

“Not… yet…” I whispered, tears pricking my eyes. Not here. Not like this. Not alone.

The monitor glowed above me, the game still running, my character frozen mid-battle. The last thing I saw before everything went dark was the word “Defeat” flashing across the screen.

And then—silence.

When I opened my eyes again, everything was… wrong.

There was no room, no desk, no hum of a computer. No mansion, no suffocating walls. Just an endless stretch of darkness, lit faintly by a soft, otherworldly glow.

I blinked, sitting up slowly, though I didn’t remember standing or moving at all. My body felt weightless, like I wasn’t really me anymore but something else entirely.

And then I saw her.

A girl stood a few feet away, barefoot, her long white dress fluttering as though there was a breeze I couldn’t feel. Her hair was silver, glowing faintly against the void, and her eyes… her eyes were like galaxies, infinite and strange, staring directly into me.

“Wenalin,” she said, her voice soft but echoing all around, as if the darkness itself carried her words. “Do you want to live again?”

I froze. My lips parted, but no sound came out at first. Then, hoarse, I whispered, “...Yeah.”

The girl smiled faintly, tilting her head. “Then tell me… if you were to live again, what do you want to become?”

I lowered my gaze. What did I want?

Not to return to my old life. Not to that mansion, to those cold dinners, to those faces that never looked at me as if I mattered.

Slowly, my words formed, shaky but certain. “If I’m reincarnated… I want to live in my favorite game. Not as someone weak or forgotten. I want to be… alone. Far away, away from everyone. Somewhere in the forest or woods…”

I hesitated, then let out a breath. “…and in a big, dark castle. On my own.”

The girl’s eyes shimmered, like stars flickering to life. “A world of your choosing, then. A castle deep in the woods, hidden from others, where you will live as you wish.”

I nodded, my chest tightening—not from pain this time, but from a strange mix of fear and hope.

Her hand reached out, delicate and pale, and the moment her fingers brushed mine, the darkness around us cracked.

Light burst through, blinding and warm, swallowing me whole.

And for the first time in my life… I felt like I was truly leaving everything behind.

Not escaping through a screen. Not hiding in a room.

This time, I was stepping into another world entirely.

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