- 4.
By the time the “happy family” returned from
enrolling Lily in school, I had already moved
my belongings to the spare maid’s room,
vacating my old bedroom. Not to be
magnanimous, but to preserve my own space.
<
My father patted my head. “Good girl,
Ashley,” he said.
A younger child might have been pleased by
this praise. But I understood the underlying message: to be his “good girl,” I had to be
like them, constantly sympathetic to Lily,
sacrificing my own happiness for hers.
Lily barged into my old room, her face paling
at the sight of my art supplies, a complete set
my parents had bought me. She rushed to my
mother, sobbing dramatically.
“I want to paint like Ashley… I want to be
carefree like her…‘
“”
My mother looked at me, hesitant. “Ashley,
honey,” she finally said, “could you put your
く
art supplies away for now? Just to… you
know… spare Lily’s feelings?”
Here we go again. Since Lily’s arrival, my
space, both physical and emotional, had been
constantly shrinking, to the point where I
wasn’t even allowed my hobbies and dreams.
It had been the same in my past life. Lily’s
eyes couldn’t handle extended periods of
drawing, so I was forced to curtail my own.
artistic pursuits. Despite being the daughter
of a painter, I wasn’t allowed to buy art
supplies freely or attend classes, simply
because it might upset Lily. Yet, Lily could
snuggle up to my father, learning to paint
from him directly. Each of her artworks was
meticulously framed, while mine were hidden
away.
く
The injustice had culminated during our
college entrance exams for art school. Lily,
experiencing an episode with her eyes mid-
exam, couldn’t complete her piece. When
submitting our work, she switched our names.
When the results came out, I instantly
recognized the outstanding piece attributed
to Lily as my own. I begged my parents to
intervene, but they simply comforted the
hysterically crying Lily, urging me to be
magnanimous.
وو
“Ashley, you can retake the exam next year, they had said. “But Lily’s running out of time. You know her eyes could give out any day.”
“Lily’s had such a hard life. Just let her have
this. You can definitely get in next year!”
L
Easy for them to say. They had no idea how
much time and effort I, the less talented one,
had secretly poured into practicing, drawing
in the dark every night, almost ruining my own.
eyesight.
“She’s stolen my parents, and now she wants
to steal my future?!” I had screamed. “Give
me back my place, or I’ll leave this house and
never come back!”
My outburst only earned me a slap from my enraged father. “If Lily’s eyes weren’t failing, you think you’d stand a chance against her? You have no talent! You’d just be at the
bottom of the class at art school!”
I couldn’t believe those words had come from
my own father.
losing to an adopted daughter with a
disability. My artistic dreams shattered, I led a
mediocre life.
Now, reborn, I felt no passion for art. So, in
front of my parents, I threw my art supplies in
the trash. My father’s face darkened, but
knowing they were in the wrong, he and Lily
left without a word.
