My sister Scarlett has always had this thing about taking what’s mine—started when we were kids and never stopped. When we were little, she pointed at my trophy and spoke her first real sentence. “I want it.” Before I could even blink, Mom and Dad pried that trophy right out of my hands and handed it over. In middle school, she set her sights on the bike I’d slaved away at part-time jobs for months to buy. “I want it.” Again, Mom and Dad took it away without a second thought—left me walking to school all through middle and high school. That phrase became her superpower over the years, letting her take just about everything that mattered to me. Every time, I’d cry and fight back, but it was useless. Mom and Dad always, always took her side—like my feelings didn’t even exist. This holiday season, I brought my boyfriend Liam home to meet the family. Scarlett pointed straight at Liam and said those three words that had haunted me my whole life. “I want him.” The words barely left her mouth before Mom and Dad fixed him with that same sharp, calculating look I knew so well. Sure enough, Mom grabbed my arm next second, her voice oozing that entitled tone I’d grown to hate. “Scarlett hasn’t dated anyone since college. She finally likes someone—just let her have him, okay?” Dad nodded along enthusiastically. “That boyfriend of yours is a real catch. Him and Scarlett would make a great couple.” Liam stood behind me, looking completely dumbfounded. He nudged my back gently, his voice dropping to a disbelieving whisper: “Hazel, is this some kind of sick joke? They want me to be with Scarlett? This is insane!” A bitter laugh escaped me—dry, humorless, and completely hollow. Ridiculous? Please. This was just another Tuesday in our house. My whole life, Scarlett had stolen everything from me—trophies, my bike, even my parents’ love. Now they wanted me to hand over the person I loved most? After college, I moved away for work thinking distance might fix their obvious favoritism. Maybe they’d miss me, show me a little real affection for once. But now I saw how wrong I’d been. They hadn’t changed one bit. If Scarlett wanted something—even my happiness—they’d yank it away without hesitation. I took a deep breath, shoving down the disappointment burning in my chest. “Fine. She can have him.” “Hazel, don’t be dramatic… Wait, what? You’re agreeing?” Dad’s scolding fizzled out, his face going slack with shock. His surprise wasn’t unwarranted. Back then, I’d scream and cry, even starve myself to protest when Scarlett took my stuff. But this time, I was just exhausted. If they wanted to cater to Scarlett’s every demand, fine. I didn’t have the energy to fight anymore. Mom’s face lit up instantly, a huge relieved smile spreading across her face. “Hazel, you’ve really matured! Such a thoughtful daughter!” Liam finally caught on. He jumped up, grabbing his jacket, voice shaking with anger. “Hazel, what am I to you? Some toy you can just hand off? Your whole family’s crazy!” With that, he stormed for the door. Mom and Dad tried to call him back, but all they got was a loud slam. The door crashed shut hard enough to rattle the walls. My heart shattered along with that loud noise—into a million tiny pieces. I really loved him, but in this family? I couldn’t even hold onto the person I cared about. Scarlett didn’t even bat an eye at Liam leaving. She never actually liked him—she just got off on taking what was mine.
Right then, a sharp, twisting pain hit my stomach. I needed to lie down in my room for a minute. As I turned to go inside, my eyes accidentally flicked to the wall. There was this empty spot staring back at me—bright and painful. My chest tightened. A photo was supposed to be there. It was me with Mom and Dad at our kindergarten field day. Back before Scarlett was born, their eyes were only on me. That photo was my last real connection to this family—my most precious memory. I hurried back into the living room, voice tight with urgency. “Mom, Dad—where’s the photo that was on my bedroom wall? Did you move it?” Mom was watching TV and shrugged casually, like it was no big deal. “Oh that old thing? We gave it to Scarlett. She needed a family picture for a school project, so she took it.” I spun around to Scarlett: “Where is it?” She didn’t even look up, tone totally dismissive. “I threw it out after I finished the project. Duh. It’s just some stupid old photo, right? Why are you yelling at me?” “That was *mine*! How could you just throw it away? Do you have any clue how much that meant to me?” Years of built-up hurt and anger exploded in that moment—I couldn’t stop myself from raising my voice. Scarlett finally looked up at me, rolling her eyes like I was being ridiculous. “I threw it out ’cause I didn’t like looking at it. So what?” Her total lack of care pushed me over the edge. I stepped forward and shoved her hard. Mom was there in a second, yanking me back and slapping me across the face. My cheek burned instantly, head snapping to the side from the force. “Hazel, are you out of your mind! How dare you push Scarlett! I should’ve known that nice act earlier was fake!” Mom kept shoving me, backing me up until my back hit the wall with a thud. “You selfish brat! Fighting over some dumb photo? You actually hit your sister!” I tried to speak, but a sudden, crippling pain shot through my stomach—making me double over groaning. Mom heard me but just crossed her arms and scoffed. “Oh please, now you’re faking it? I barely touched you and suddenly you’re putting on a show?” Scarlett got up from the couch, strolled over, and whined to Mom. “Mom, Hazel’s being so mean! You have to make her apologize!” Mom’s face softened right away, petting Scarlett’s hair gently. “There there, sweetie. You’ll get whatever you want—she’s being so disobedient.” Scarlett looked at me—my face was twisted in pain by then, cold sweat dripping down my forehead. A little smirk crossed her face as she spoke slowly. “Hazel works at that company with good benefits, right? Why doesn’t she just give me her job? Then I can earn money to help take care of you guys.” She wanted to steal my job too? That job was from four years of busting my butt in college and countless late nights at work. That job was my only way out of this house—my chance at a real life! Dad’s eyes lit up when he heard that. “Scarlett’s so thoughtful, always thinking of us. Hazel’s just selfish, running off right after graduation like she couldn’t care less about her family.” Mom nodded along, “We’ll go with you to help you get settled in, sweetie.” Then she turned to me, face hardening. “Hazel, you heard her. Call your boss first thing and tell them Scarlett’s taking over after the holidays.” I grabbed my stomach, shaking from the pain. But my heart hurt even worse than my stomach.
Why? Wasn’t I their daughter too? “Mom, Dad—am I even your daughter? Why do you always take her side?” I forced the words out, barely able to speak. Before Mom and Dad could answer, Scarlett cut them off, squatting right in front of me with this self-righteous look in her eyes. “You got Mom and Dad all to yourself for years before I was born. Isn’t it my turn to get their love now? That’s only fair.” So that was her excuse for stealing everything from me. Just because I was born first? Mom jumped in right away, “Scarlett’s right. Hazel, stop stalling. Give Scarlett your job or I’ll disown you!” I was in so much pain I could barely stand, my lips turning white. “Mom, my stomach really hurts. Please—can we go to the hospital first?” Mom looked me up and down, scowling. “Now you’re faking being sick? Convenient timing—right when we ask you to give Scarlett your job. Can’t you be unselfish for once?” Of course she didn’t believe me. I leaned against the wall, forcing myself upright. I couldn’t count on them to take me to the hospital—I had to go alone. I shuffled toward the door, each step shooting pain through my stomach. But Dad stepped in front of me, face red with anger. “Didn’t you hear your mother? You’re getting more and more disrespectful! Where do you think you’re going? Trying to run away again? It won’t work this time!” Before I could react, he grabbed my wrist and dragged me toward the bedroom. His grip was so tight my wrist throbbed and turned red instantly. The pain in my stomach left me too weak to fight back. Once we got to my room, he threw me onto the bed. “You’re grounded tonight! Think about what matters more—your job or your sister!” He slammed the door shut and locked it behind him. I lay there curled in a ball, trying to ease the sharp pain in my stomach. My mind felt foggy, replaying everything Mom and Dad had said and done today. Their cold faces now mixed with the loving ones from my childhood, making me break out in a cold sweat as I shook uncontrollably. The pain made me black out—I wasn’t sure if I fell asleep or passed out from agony. Early next morning, I woke up to the sound of suitcases being packed in the living room. As soon as I came to, the pain was worse than ever—like someone was twisting a knife inside me. Mom and Dad opened the door and walked in, already sounding angry. “Did you make a decision yet? Have you called your boss?” I knew something was really wrong. The pain was so bad I could barely talk, so I just begged. “Mom, my stomach hurts so bad—I’m not lying. Please, just take me to the ER first. I’ll give Scarlett my job…” Mom and Dad looked at my pale face and sweaty forehead, exchanging a look like they weren’t sure what to do. But then Scarlett pushed the door open, sounding annoyed. “Are you doing this on purpose? You don’t want to give me your job, so now you’re trying to ruin Mom and Dad’s ski trip?” Scarlett’s words made Mom and Dad stop hesitating right away. Mom gave me this grossed-out look. “I knew you were lying! I almost fell for it!” I used my last bit of strength to reach for Mom’s hand.
“Mom, please—just believe me this once…” But Mom didn’t even look at me. She grabbed Scarlett’s hand, ready to leave. “Yesterday you refused to give Scarlett your job, and now you’re faking being sick for attention? You’re being ridiculous!” “If you want to keep faking, go ahead. We’re done with your drama.” Then they walked out of the room. My hand froze in the air, still reaching for help as I watched them leave. From outside, I could hear all three of them laughing happily. “Dad, I heard that ski resort is huge! You have to take tons of pictures of Mom and me!” “Don’t worry, I’m an amazing photographer!” “Let’s go! The car’s waiting downstairs.” Right after, I heard the front door close. I collapsed back onto the bed, helpless, and felt blood trickle from the corner of my mouth. If this kept up, I was going to die. I bit down hard, fumbling for my phone in my pocket, shaking so bad I could barely hold it. I needed to call 911. I’d just pressed “9” when a Snapchat notification popped up. It was from Scarlett. I opened it—a selfie of all three of them in the car. Mom and Dad had their arms around Scarlett, all grinning like nothing was wrong. Their happiness felt like a knife in my chest. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I coughed up blood, splattering the phone screen. The screen went black, stuck on that stupid selfie, and wouldn’t turn back on. I had no strength left. The phone slipped from my hand, landing right in front of me. Their smiling faces stared back at me from the dark screen. The pain in my stomach got worse and worse. I couldn’t move, and everything started to fade. Finally, in so much pain, I stopped breathing. Suddenly I felt weightless. I floated above the bed, looking down at my body curled up there, and shook my head. I never thought coming home for the holidays would kill me. But maybe it was for the best. Liam, my parents, my job—everything that mattered was gone. Living just meant more of this. At least death was an escape. But even after dying, I was stuck in this house. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t leave. I was stuck in that bedroom, watching my body get colder and stiffer each day, still curled up like it was in pain. Meanwhile, Mom, Dad, and Scarlett were out having the time of their lives—they didn’t come home for days. I looked at my face on the bed, all twisted up, and tried to smooth my forehead. But my hand just went right through. Right. I was dead. I forgot. A few days later, I finally heard the front door open. They were back—Mom, Dad, and Scarlett—talking all excited about their trip, like nothing was wrong. Mom finally noticed the smell and frowned when she saw my bedroom door was still shut. “What’s Hazel doing now? I texted her we were coming home today! Why does it smell so gross in here? What’s she been up to?” She called my name a few times at the door. When I didn’t answer, she stomped over and threw the door open. “You’re being such a brat! Can’t even answer when I talk to you!” She kept yelling as she pushed the door all the way open. When she saw me lying on the bed, she got even madder. She marched over, grabbed the blanket, and was about to yank it off.
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