Enemies with Her Sister

I watched these people praise my sister, Anna Smith, and belittle me, and my heart gradually turned cold.

In the family chat group, my mother mentioned Anna.

Mom: [I booked the flight for you. Once we arrive in Mexico, you can buy whatever you want. I have money.]

My sister hinted: [Mom, I heard that Mexico is close to Guatemala and has many good materials.]

My mother immediately responded: [Okay, okay, we'll buy you a jade bracelet.]

My niece, Emily Johnson, immediately sent a voice message. "Grandma, I want one too. I want one too!"

My mother immediately answered with a smile.

Mom: [Okay, okay. We'll buy one for everyone.]

My mother enthusiastically arranged gifts for everyone, even my brother-in-law, but she never mentioned me.

I glanced at the phone record.

She spent nearly 20,000 dollars on the flight tickets, using my supplementary card.

It had always been like this since I was little.

I spent 20 dollars to buy a practice book, yet my mother gave me a beating, saying that all I did was ask for money and showed no understanding for the family.

However, my sister would receive 20,000 dollars from our mother to buy an LV bag.

When I had just turned 18, my mother said I could not spend her money for nothing since I was now an adult. From then on, I started working part-time and applied for a supplementary card to support my parents.

Anna got married and had a baby. My mother bought Emily's formula milk with the supplementary card.

I suddenly felt tired. Looking at the supplementary card on my app, I clicked on it to cancel it.

It turned out that it was easy not to be the family bank.

Without my support, what could they do to be loving toward each other?

After canceling the supplementary card, I immediately applied to the company for a transfer to a branch office.

I only told my mother I had to go on a last-minute business trip and might not be back before Independence Day. She did not offer a single word of concern, only asking if I would be compensated for the business trip before discussing what clothes to wear with my sister. She kept muttering, "It's a good thing I didn't book your ticket; how much would the refund have cost?"

Looking at my mom enthusiastically trying on clothes in the mirror, I smiled mockingly. Perhaps my absence during the trip was exactly what she wanted.

After all, I had always felt like I was the odd one out since I was little.

My dad frowned and glared at me. "You brat, what are you standing there for? It's just a few bucks! Why are you so stingy? If I hadn't raised you, you'd probably be a prostitute somewhere now! You're so calculating with your own family. You're indeed an ingrate! I should have strangled you to death back then!"

There was it again — One could not be calculating with their family. Thus, I had to let my whole family bleed me dry; I would be calculating if I refused.

Seeing that I remained silent, my father suddenly felt a little guilty, and his tone softened. "Don't blame your mother and me for being biased; it's your own fault for being so disrespectful. If this were back in the day, you would have been executed. It's only because your mother and I are soft-hearted that we raised you."

Memories flooded back, and I felt as if I were back on that dark, rainy night.

I was a senior in high school at the time and I left school very late because of school competition training. My dad, who was supposed to pick me up, never showed up, so I had to go home by myself. That same night, someone dragged me into an alleyway, but luckily, a neighbor happened to be passing by and rescued me.

Disheveled, I was taken home by the police, while my dad returned with cupcakes.