The truly depressed one was me!
The Room in the Hallway
It was getting late, and everyone was going to
bed.
<
Our house had three bedrooms.
Mom and Dad had one, Kevin had one, and
Brittany had one.
And I? I had to sleep in a small, makeshift
room in the hallway, separated by a few
sheets.
There was barely any space for my tiny bed,
and it was where I spent my awkward years.
Sometimes it was difficult even to change.
I protested. I wanted my own room, or if that
was too much, I could share with Brittany.
I
Two girls sharing a room was very logical,
and her room was the largest in the house. It
was big enough for two beds.
<
But Brittany didn’t want to share. She said I
wasn’t worthy of living with her.
I cried and protested.
Why wasn’t I worthy?
I was a daughter of this family too.
But my parents would never stand up for me.
All they did was dote on my sister.
They stubbornly pushed me into that little
room, ignoring my cries of pain.
They were heartbroken by my sister’s tears.
My tears, on the other hand, only annoyed
them!
They’d say, “You’re the older sister. You
should be grateful and understanding, okay?”
The same old words, over and over.
Why was I the only one expected to
understand?
Why was it only me?
Was I so unimportant to them?
I was hurt and tried to find a bit of validation,
so one day I intentionally didn’t go home after
school.
I hid in a park not far from our house, hoping
my parents would come find me, worried.
But I waited and waited. The sun went down,
L
the moon rose.
Finally, a middle–aged woman ran over, out of
breath.
She hugged her daughter tight, as if holding a
long–lost treasure.
She said, “Don’t be afraid, baby. Mommy is
taking you home.”
The little girl hugged her mother’s neck,
completely dependent and happy.
I was so envious.
I thought that as long as my parents came
looking for me, I would be happy, even if they
beat me to a pulp.
<
But they never came.
They didn’t even call.
I wiped the tears from my eyes, and
eventually, I just went home myself.
My family was watching a movie and having
dinner, cheerful and happy.
They didn’t even look at me.
I called out, dejected: “Mom!”
She turned to me, full of sarcasm. “You know
how to come home, huh? Why didn’t you just
die out there?”
My heart felt as if it was pierced with a sharp
arrow.
L
Mom, now I really did die out there.
Are you happy?
The Wedding Day
Thanksgiving passed, and Brittany’s wedding
day soon came.
My parents wanted to make a big deal out of
- it. They invited a lot of people. The whole
hotel lobby was crowded with people.
The relatives were chatting away, offering
congratulations, while also bragging about
their kids.
“I hear the son–in–law works at a big tech
company, makes like 20k a month. Brittany
sure has good taste!”
<
“Honey, is that gold bracelet on your wrist,
did your son–in–law get it for you?”
Many looked over in envy.
Mom was dazed as she touched the bracelet,
a little awkward.
I had bought her the bracelet.
Last Mother’s Day, I listened to my therapist
and tried to mend our relationship.
I bought this bracelet, hoping to make my
mom happy.
