At the beginning, my mother would tell me, “Be nice, Wendy. We’re repaying your debt for you.!!!
What debt?
At night, when my parents were asleep, Suzy would pull my blankets away and walk on my bed with her shoes still on.
During the day, she would destroy my clothes with a pair of scissors.
She would tear up my homework and throw it out of the window.
Whenever we fought, she would stab me with a pen, smiling wide while she did so.
“You don’t belong in this house, Wendy. You’re the odd one out, you know that? Why didn’t you die? You should’ve died with those two,” she would say.
I did tell my mother about all this, but Suzy would shed tears when we confronted her.
“I don’t know what I did to make Wendy hate me so much. Maybe it’s because I’m an orphan. Orphans are annoying, I know.”
My mother would give me a disgusted look as she took Suzy into her arms. “Don’t cry, Suzy. We won’t stoop to her level. Just ignore her. Come, I’ll get you something nice to eat.”
The day after my final exams, Suzy lay on her bed and smiled at me innocently. “Poor thing. You’re at the top of your class, yet you have to drop out of school.”
When I worked at the factory, Suzy would occasionally visit me. “Look, Wendy. Uncle Fred bought me this dress, and Aunt Abby bought me this new phone–all with your money.”
