My Holier-Than-Thou Sister and Mother

Three days passed before I decided to go back there. But before that, I purposely called Mom in front of Eric.

Eric tensed up the moment he heard that something had happened to Amy. His forehead became tightly knitted with concern. He was the one who wanted to take me out for a movie, but he immediately changed his mind.

"Cheryl, how can you still be in the mood to watch a movie when Amy is so upset right now? You should care about her more. I never knew you were this heartless. I'm so disappointed in you!

"Forget the movie. Go get the car. We're going to see her—and you'll buy her whatever she likes and apologize."

I simply eyed him without bothering to hide the fact that I thought he was a fool.

"Did you get kicked in the head at some point, Eric? You're the one who wanted to watch a movie. Did I say I was going to watch it with you? And also, she's my sister. What's she to you? Why are you so anxious?"

Eric faltered a little, his expression becoming a little awkward. Nevertheless, he was used to making everything seem like my fault.

"Can you stop being so unreasonable? You're my girlfriend. What's wrong with me expressing some concern for your sister? You're the one who's got a warped mind. That's why you turn everything into something negative.

"Come on. Hurry up and start driving. Stop wasting time."

Why the hell would I listen to some fool giving me orders?

I turned to leave before Eric even finished speaking.

As it was, I'd deliberately allowed him to find out that something had happened to Amy without specifying what it was. I wanted to watch him panic. That gave me a great deal of satisfaction.

Eric chased after my car for over a mile, inhaling a ton of exhaust fumes, before finally stopping and angrily hailing a taxi.

Such was my luck. Eric, who was supposed to be my boyfriend, didn't like me at all. He only pursued me because he had a thing for Amy. Since she didn't care for him, he settled for his second-best option. If he couldn't be her man, he'd be her brother-in-law and use that identity to continue staying by her side.

But what about me? Why did I, a completely innocent bystander who'd done no wrong, have to be subjected to such disrespect from them?

When I got to the door, I heard Amy wailing her heart out.

"I'm too ashamed to show my face in front of everyone ever again. I might as well just die!"

I wholeheartedly agreed with that. Why didn't Amy just end her own life instead?

In my previous life, I'd felt terrible when I saw her in that state. After all, being a woman myself, I pitied her for having gone through such an ordeal. That was why I suggested reporting her assailant to the police.

As soon as I said that, Amy glared at me with a scowl of resentment on her face. "Are you trying to ruin my life, Cheryl? How am I supposed to keep my dignity if people find out what happened to me? Everyone's going to ridicule me!"

I didn't understand where she was coming from, so I tentatively argued, "But if you don't report the guy to the police, that means you're letting him walk away without any repercussions. You're the victim. This wasn't your fault. Everyone will only rebuke the guy who forced himself on you. No one is going to ridicule you."

To my shock, Amy became even more agitated and started wailing at the top of her lungs. "I knew it! You just want to see me become the laughingstock! You don't actually want to help me. Get her out of here, Mom! I don't want to see her anymore."

Mom was outraged as well. She jabbed a finger at me and screamed, "You're both my daughters, but how did you end up turning into such a mean and vicious person? Amy's your sister! How can you bear to let her life be ruined? What on earth did I do to deserve a daughter like you?"

She went on and on, chewing me out. At the time, I felt completely numb, my heart exhausted.

I didn't understand why it was all my fault again. How was I ruining Amy's life? All I did was give a suggestion. If she didn't want to report the guy to the police, then that was that. Why were they making it seem as though it was my fault she was sexually assaulted?

In fact, I should've been the one asking that question. What on earth had I done to deserve a mother like that?

But this time around, I wasn't just going to put up with their abuse anymore.

After entering the house, I looked down at the shoe rack. Not seeing my usual pair of house slippers, I simply marched into the living room without switching my shoes.

This was one of Amy's little tricks. She resorted to all sorts of small acts to push me out of this family.

She would throw out my clothes and shoes, deliberately break my tableware, and not set a place for me when we ate as a family. Also, she took my room from me by claiming that she wanted a dedicated study, playing such tricks with ease.

I used to be sad about this, but now, I couldn't care less about having a place in this house—and this family.

Mom blew up when she noticed that I hadn't changed out of my shoes. She came charging at me with her hand raised, all the while hurling even more verbal abuse at me.

After dodging her, I loudly questioned, "You guys threw out my house slippers, so what do you expect me to wear? Am I supposed to walk barefoot across the floor in the dead of winter?"

It was the first time I'd ever raised my voice at Mom. She'd jumped in alarm at first, but immediately, her expression darkened, and she screamed right back, "How dare you raise your voice at me? Did I tell you to come back just to hear you shouting at me?

"Look at you, trying to act all tough in front of me. Go on, then. I dare you to act as tough when you're out in public, too!"

Scoffing, I retorted, "No one else treats me the way you do. Stop shouting. Why did you ask me to come back here?"

"Are you blind?" Mom fumed. "Can't you see that Amy's crying? Why did you even have to ask? Can't you read the room?"

I felt nothing but repulsion as I watched while Mom continued to holler at me, her saliva splattering everywhere.

In my previous life, I would've been upset to hear such hurtful things. It would even make me reflect on myself. I would wonder what kind of heinous wrong I'd committed that my own mother favored my sister so heavily over me. It always resulted in an endless cycle of self-doubt.

But now, I had a whole new perspective. Mom was just a middle-aged woman who could barely read. Amy? She was a useless fool who failed to get into a semi-decent college even after repeating her senior year of high school twice. The only thing she was good at was crying and putting on a pity show.

Why should I get upset over two people like them?

"Amy cries every other day," I said coolly. "She cried when she got a bad haircut. She cried when she accidentally killed a cockroach by stepping on it. She cried when she claimed I didn't give her enough money. How should I know why she's crying now?"

With an unreadable smile on my face, I looked at Amy before continuing, "If she's crying because some guy forced himself on her and knocked her up, making her three months pregnant, then I fear it's a little too late for tears."

Amy stiffened, her eyes flickering as she lowered her head to avoid my gaze.

Just then, Eric arrived.

"Amy! What happened? I came right over the moment I heard something happened to you. Are you okay?"

The moment he entered the house, he rushed over to Amy and hugged her by the shoulders, softly comforting her.

Now that there was someone showering her with attention, she started crying even more pitifully.

I couldn't stand listening to it anymore. Since everyone was here, I stopped feigning ignorance and got straight to the point. "So what now? It's been three days. Made up your mind yet? Do you want to file a police report or get an abortion?"