- 5.
It was late, everyone was getting ready for
bed.
Our house had three bedrooms.
My parents had one, my brother another, and
Polly had the third.
く
As for me, I could only sleep in the cramped,
converted closet–like storage room in the
living room.
It was so small, barely enough room for a tiny
bed. I spent my difficult teenage years there.
Even changing clothes was a hassle.
I protested, I wanted my own room. If that
wasn’t possible, I could share with Polly.
Two girls sharing a room was perfectly normal. Her bedroom was the biggest in the
house, we could easily fit two beds in it.
But Polly refused, saying I wasn’t good
enough to share a room with her.
I cried and argued with them.
<
Why wasn’t I good enough?
I was also a daughter in this house.
But my parents wouldn’t stand up for me,
they always took Polly’s side.
They stubbornly forced me into the storage
room, ignoring my tears.
They cared about Polly’s tears.
But my tears just annoyed them!
They would say, “You’re the older sister, you
should be satisfied, you need to be
responsible, understand?”
There were always similar remarks like that.
く
Why was I the only one expected to be
responsible, out of all three children?
Was I just not important to them?
I tried to find some sense of being wanted, so
one day, I didn’t go home after school.
I hid in the park near my house, hoping my
parents would be worried and come looking
for me.
But I waited and waited. The sun set, the
moon rose.
Finally, a middle–aged woman came running
to me.
She hugged her daughter tightly, as if she
was a treasure that had been lost and then
<
She said, “Don’t be scared, baby. Mommy’s
taking you home.”
The little girl wrapped her arms around her
mother’s neck, full of affection and joy.
I was so envious.
I would’ve been happy just for my parents to
look for me, even if they beat me when they
found me.
But they never came.
Not even a phone call.
I wiped away my tears, and dragged myself
home.
My family was eating dinner and watching a
<
They didn’t even look at me.
I whispered weakly, “Mom?”
She turned to me, a sneer on her face. “You
finally came home? Why didn’t you just die
out there?”
My heart felt like it had been pierced by a
thousand knives.
Mom, now I really am dead out there.
Are you happy?
