Emotionally Numb, The Cost of Parental Bias

After I was kidnapped, my family was practically *relieved*. The kidnappers had gotten the wrong person; my older brother, Lucas, the one they *meant* to snatch, had escaped. When the police rescued me, blood was seeping from almost every pore, but I didn’t cry, didn’t make a sound. I was diagnosed with emotional apathy. No emotions. I could no longer feel sad about anything happening around me. I felt freer than I had ever been. But later, they all regretted it. They cried, begging me to go back to my old self. When I was discharged from the hospital and returned home, the house was empty. Even the furniture had been moved out. Unable to reach anyone, I called our housekeeper, Martha, only to find out they had moved. I went to the new address. My family was already seated at the dining table, ready for dinner. Seeing me walk in, everyone at the table looked a little uncomfortable. “Why didn’t anyone tell me you were moving?” “Oh, Lucas has been having nightmares lately, dreaming of being kidnapped. I thought maybe the old house wasn’t good for him, so we found a new place.” Mrs. Davis said, as casually as if discussing what was for dinner. “You’re back just in time. Sit down and eat with us.” The table was laden with all of Lucas’s favorite dishes. My face was covered with thick bandages, and I limped when I walked. No one seemed to notice or care. The old me would have been devastated. But now? I felt nothing. My emotions were gone. Seeing me calmly sit down, Lucas suddenly leaned over. “I’ve been so scared these past few days, I didn’t even dare to go out, so I couldn’t visit you. Mom and Dad were worried I’d get kidnapped too, so they stayed home with me. You don’t blame me, do you?” Before I could say a word, Mr. Davis quickly jumped in. “Come on, Hymen, it’s not that serious. You two are brothers; you should cut each other some slack.” I didn’t know how to react. *I* was the one who was kidnapped. Lucas laughed heartily. “Hehe, I just didn’t want him to overthink it! Hymen has always been so independent, much braver than me. I really envy people with courage.” He said, picking up a shrimp and placing it in my bowl. I silently put down my fork. I’m allergic to shrimp. No one at the table remembered. *No one.*

My name is Hymen. My older brother’s name is Lucas. No doubt about it, we’re biological brothers. An old fortune teller once told my parents that I had a difficult fate and shouldn’t be raised by them. So, they sent me away to live with my distant grandparents in a remote town. All those years, they barely visited me. They only brought me back after my grandparents passed away. I came home filled with hope, but I quickly realized this house wasn’t for me. The day I was kidnapped, Lucas insisted on taking a deserted alley. After a few steps, he claimed he needed to find a restroom and told me to wait right there for him. After that, I lost consciousness. I’ll never forget those memories. “Damn it, a worthless piece of trash.” The kidnapper’s fists landed on me, blow after blow, venting their rage. They had mistaken me for Lucas, they had kidnapped the wrong person. My family refused to pay my ransom, so they wouldn’t get a single dime. I was starved for three days, tortured for three days. My throat was raw, I couldn’t even scream anymore. When the police burst in, the kidnappers were about to strip me. Blood blurred my vision, but I still strained to open my eyes, looking behind them. No one. No one from my family had come. I wanted to cry, but no tears would fall. The doctor said I had Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, manifesting as a loss of emotions, medically known as emotional apathy. The hospital room was empty. After the investigating police officers left, no one else came. At the dinner table, they treated me like I was invisible. The three of them chatted and laughed, a picture of a happy family. In the past, I would always try to join their conversations, but today I did nothing. “I’m finished.” I casually grabbed a napkin from the table to wipe my hands. “Which room am I staying in?” Mrs. Davis paused, then collected herself. “The other rooms haven’t been tidied up yet.” Lucas interjected, “Hymen, don’t blame Mom and Dad. They’ve been so busy with everything lately, they just can’t keep up.” He sounded like he was protecting our parents, but he was really hinting that I was being inconsiderate – something he’d done countless times. I simply asked, “Did I say I blamed them?” I gently put down the napkin, my voice flat. “Then I’ll just pick an unoccupied room. You all enjoy your dinner.” I slowly walked upstairs, their voices drifting up to me. “Who did he inherit that prickly attitude from? Don’t take it to heart. Come on, Lucas, you haven’t had any of my special stew yet!” Lucas’s voice was calm, “My brother might just be scared.” Mrs. Davis disagreed, “What’s he scared about? He’s back home safe and sound, isn’t he?” I closed my bedroom door, shutting out their conversation.

Chloe came home that evening. She wasn’t Mr. and Mrs. Davis’s biological child; she was adopted, and Lucas and I called her sister. I once dreamed of having an older sister who would stand up for me. And Chloe did fit my image of a good sister, except she always protected Lucas. Towards me, this sudden interloper who seemed to take some of his spotlight, she was openly hostile. From the moment she walked in, Chloe hadn’t spared me a single glance, practically writing “unwelcome” on her face. How could I have been so naive before? Even with her attitude, I always wanted to get close, to care for her, to give her all kinds of gifts. I envied Lucas; I envied him for receiving all the family’s love. But with those emotions gone, everyone’s actions seemed deliberate and utterly uninteresting in my eyes. I felt a little hungry. Chloe, noticing I hadn’t initiated conversation, actually looked at me twice. “Hey, your stuff. I don’t want it.” She held out a beautifully wrapped gift bag. I recognized it; it was the birthday gift I had chosen for her. A piece of jewelry I had personally polished and crafted. I had given her many things, and every single one had been publicly returned. She and Lucas both seemed to enjoy the process of trampling my dignity. “Got it.” My attention wasn’t on her at all. The food was all served, but I had no appetite. A table full of seafood. Nothing I could eat. Just looking at it made my wounds throb faintly. Chloe, however, was stunned. Usually, I’d beg her to accept the gift. This time, I was surprisingly direct. Was I playing another trick, trying to get the family’s attention? “Sister, what did he give you?” Lucas asked, but his hand was already quicker, tearing open the gift. “Oh, what beautiful jewelry! He must have put a lot of thought into this, Chloe. You should keep it.” Chloe pursed her lips. Keep it? That would mean she accepted *me*. This was the person who made Lucas feel insecure, the one who caused him to cry countless nights. “I won’t accept anything from him. Take it back.” She looked at me, her tone brooking no refusal. My stomach ached with hunger. Faced with a table of inedible seafood, I just wanted to go out and eat something else. As I started to rise, Chloe, thinking I was trying to avoid the situation, grabbed my wrist. “Take your stuff away.” Lucas looked on, clearly enjoying the spectacle. In the past, I would have cried. “Just throw it away.” “What?” Seeing that no one moved, I picked up the jewelry and tossed it into the trash can. “I said, throw away what you don’t want. I’m leaving.” Everyone at the table fell silent. This version of me was too unfamiliar. I ignored them and simply left the table. Chloe felt a strange pang. Watching that annoying figure slowly disappear, it felt like something had quietly spun out of control. Lucas glanced at Chloe, his hand, still holding a fork, clenched abruptly.

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