It Was Never Fair

Back then, Mother happily clapped and praised, "This is just right. Belle has these gambling debts to pay off. This man only needs someone to spend the night to repay the debts. You, Celine, came back just in time. You can't blame me for being cruel; it's just a coincidence."

I felt powerless. I pressed the emergency alarm button with my weak hand.

The man with a mouthful of yellow teeth pressed me on the bed. He pinched my neck and tore my clothes.

I cried as I felt suffocated.

The moment the police broke through the door, I felt sheer hopelessness when I saw the horror in my parents' eyes.

From that day onward, my sister had a husband. Me? I was taken to the psychologist for treatment and forgot most of the things that happened. I only remembered that I wished for my parents to love me.

Mother started to feel righteous after making sure I'd lost my memory. She no longer felt guilty for what she did.

For example, when my sister wanted some pears, and there were two left. Both of the pears would be kept for her while I would not get any. The only thing I got was my mother saying, "I'll buy them for you someday, you rascal."

However, she did not know that I regained my memory after a car accident. My parents were still plotting against me.

"I remember everything now. Are you happy about it?" I asked softly. "You said you wanted me to stay. The truth is, you wanted to sell me off to the creditors to pay off Belle's gambling debts.

"You're going away with Belle right after she gets married, but you're still expecting me to care for you in your old age. Am I just trash to you?"

Mother's eyes widened in fear. She shook her head nervously. "No! I am your mother; there's no doubt that I love you. It's just that your sister isn't doing as well as you, so we must help her."

I nodded. "Well, I'll be fired from my job soon, so please help me too. Have Belle take care of you here, and clean up your mess in the hospital."

Mother glared at me. "That's all in the past. Why must you treat your parents like enemies? When have I been unfair to you for your whole life?"

Frankly, they had always been unfair to me. I was older than Belle, but all my clothes were hand-me-downs from Belle.

The dress was obviously too short, but Mother was complimented for being a good mother due to the good material that the dress was made from.

Mother would record that in my blue notebook.

"At six years old, I spent forty-five dollars to buy Celine a dress. You must repay me when you grow up."

I only wore some old clothes passed down to me. Belle would enjoy only the good ones while I had to bear the bad ones. All that, and I would be the one responsible for the expenses.

I was just an extra to them when they had some love to spare.

Father bent down and stared at me. "Don't bother coming back if you leave now!

"What an ungrateful wretch! We were just testing you, asking you to take care of us in our old age. How dare you say something like this?!"

"Fine." I nodded with a wry smile. "After all, I am just a money-making machine to you."

I could not help but spit out a mouthful of blood the moment I slammed the door and went out. I collapsed against the wall and cried bitterly.

I then heard Father smash a cup to the ground. He then said, sounding relieved, "We're lucky Celine didn't turn the pages to the back of the notebook. If she had turned the pages further, she would've found out that this was also the notebook where we recorded Belle's wedding gift. I really don't know what she'd do if she found out."

My feelings were crushed into pieces again. It turned out that I was just a joke to them.

Why?

Those few words made me realize my childhood was just a joke.

When I, the unloved child, found the blue notebook, our relatives asked Mother about it. Mother said it was a notebook to record items her elder daughter loved.

I genuinely thought I was loved. Just because of that illusory love, I would give my mother 80% of my earnings each month.

I could not help but sit near the door and listen.

Mother seemed to be crying as she flipped through the notebook, "You're right about that. There have been two notebooks since the beginning—one to record Belle's favorite things, and another to record Belle's wedding gift.

"I thought of asking Celine to return the money we spent on her to us. That'll form part of Belle's wedding gift later."

It was gut-wrenching. I spat out blood yet again.

Not only was there no notebook to record my favorite things, but the notebook that recorded my expenses was, all along, Belle's wedding gift planning records.