My Family Ignored Me, So I Chose to Serve Her Country

Dylan Pruitt and I graduated from college the same year.

He landed an internship at a tech company.

To celebrate his graduation and his new job, Mom and Dad booked two tables at a five-star hotel.

Every relative was there.

I was the only one they didn't invite.

Like a speck of dust nobody noticed, I'd been completely forgotten by them.

I stayed home eating instant ramen.

Dylan posted about the dinner online, showing off.

"Thank you to my loving mom and dad. I'll work hard, and I promise I'll never let you down."

The photo below it was that table's ten-thousand-dollar spread of luxury seafood.

I waited in silence, waiting for Mom or Dad to call me, to text me.

I waited until it was very, very late.

It was obvious. No matter how hard I studied, no matter how many awards I won, in their eyes I would never exist at all.

Before long, I finally made up my mind and dialed that number.

"Hello. I've decided."

"I'm going to serve my country!"

...

I took out a "special document" from the drawer. Right after I graduated, my mentor had brought me to meet someone.

The person claimed to be from the "Special Research Institute," which existed to comb through universities for the up-and-coming super geniuses.

I didn't know more than that. All my mentor told me was that a great deal of the nation's cutting-edge technology came from there.

The person on the phone sounded pleased. "Say a proper goodbye to your family. Once you leave, it won't be a simple three or five years."

Not long after I hung up.

They came home, full and satisfied.

They saw me.

Mom and Dad froze, a little startled, and asked, "How did you get home before us?"

I said nothing.

Dylan laughed. "Mom, Dad, you didn't invite my sister."

The two of them exchanged a glance.

"We didn't invite her?"

"Nope."

"Never mind. It was just a meal. No big deal."

Hearing that, my heart went colder still.

Right.

In their eyes.

Whether I ate, whether I caught a cold, whether my grades were good.

None of it mattered.

The year of the SATs.

I scored second in the whole state.

Mom and Dad took me out for one perfunctory meal.

Dylan barely scraped past passing.

They celebrated like it was a festival, dying to throw a banquet.

From the time we were little, the way Dylan and I were treated was worlds apart.

If Dylan's eyes so much as reddened, he got whatever he wanted.

As for me.

I didn't dare cry.

Because I knew that even if I did cry.

They wouldn't feel a thing for me.

Sometimes I even wondered.

Maybe...

I was one they'd picked up somewhere.

And only Dylan was truly their own.

The next day.

Dylan and I were pulled out of bed first thing in the morning.

Mom told us, smiling.

"We're going to look at cars in a bit!"

I started, thinking they'd changed. Had they finally learned to care about me?

Then Dad slung an arm around Dylan's shoulders.

"Son, which model do you like?"

"Dad, what's the budget?"

Dylan tipped his head back and asked, his whole face lit up.

Mom and Dad traded a smile.

Then they answered him.

"Pick whatever you want!"

"Whoa!"

"Best parents ever, love you guys!"

Dylan cupped their faces in his hands and kissed them over and over.

When he came around to me,

the excitement on his face got even brighter.

He didn't kiss me.

Instead he asked, "Sis, which model do you think I should get?"

I shook my head. "No idea."

"Come on, give me your opinion."

"I've never looked into it."

"Son, don't put your sister on the spot. All she's got eyes for is textbooks and problem sets. What would she know about cars?"

"She probably can't even tell the brake from the gas pedal."

Mom and Dad laughed behind their hands.

Dylan shrugged. "It's not that bad, is it?"

"Your sister's a bookworm, plain and simple."

"Never mind her. Let's go."

They cheerfully led Dylan toward the door.

I couldn't stop myself from calling after them.

"Mom, Dad."

"I graduated too."

"Dylan's getting a gift."

"Don't I get one?"

Before, I never once asked them for a gift.

If they gave me something, I took it.

If they didn't, I didn't mind.

But usually they bought it for Dylan, and when Dylan didn't like it, they'd hand it off to me with that fake little smile.

Mom and Dad turned around and looked at me.

There was a flicker of impatience in their eyes.

"What does a girl need a gift for?"

"And you still haven't found a job since you graduated. Buying you a car would be pointless anyway."

"Your brother landed a good job."

"He needs a good car to keep up appearances."

"So stop getting in the way!"

"Get yourself ready and let's go."

"You're coming to help your brother pick out a car."

I froze.

Dylan and I graduated at the same time, just from different colleges.

Several top companies had been trying to recruit me at a high salary.

The best offer came with no internship required and a first-year salary of ninety thousand dollars.

Starting the second year, a twenty percent raise every year.

But my mentor kept urging me.

With my ability,

I shouldn't just go work some job.

I should put what I'd learned to use where it mattered.

At first I wanted Mom and Dad to help me decide.

But they never had time to hear me finish a single sentence.

It was the most important decision of my life.

And they had no part in it.

Because at the time they were busy taking Dylan to the hospital for a checkup.

All because he'd coughed a couple of times.

If it had been me, even if I'd coughed up blood,

they would have just told me to drink more hot water.

When we went out to help my brother buy his car, he had his eye on one that cost over ninety grand.

For an ordinary family like ours, that was expensive.

But my parents didn't so much as blink. They just swiped the card.

Watching Dylan collect his new car, snapping photo after photo to show off online, I'd be lying if I said I felt nothing.

Maybe it dawned on my parents that they'd been a little too one-sided.

On the way out of the dealership, we passed a shoe store, and they bought me a pair. They went straight for the cheapest ones, too.

The clerk said they were a clearance pair, and the size was wrong for my feet.

They pinched, and it hurt to walk.

My father told the clerk, "These ones."

"Sir, your daughter's foot looks like it's a size bigger. These don't fit right, they'll be uncomfortable to wear. Why not pick another pair?"

"No need. New shoes are all like that. She'll break them in after a couple of wears."

And just like that, I got my "graduation gift."

A pair of clearance shoes that didn't fit.

Next to my brother's ninety-thousand-dollar car, the difference was staggering.

But I didn't cry, didn't make a scene, and I didn't ask them why they played favorites like this.

Because I knew making a fuss wouldn't change anything.

Then the weekend came.

Dylan was off, so my parents took him to the next town over to go bungee jumping and ride a yacht.

Once again, they left me at home.

I only knew because they'd posted in the "Family Love" group chat.

Dylan put up a dozen photos of himself bungee jumping in a row.

Then he made a point of tagging me. "Sis, good thing you didn't come, or you'd have wet your pants for sure."

"This bungee jump is seriously terrifying. You drop off the cliff and your soul goes chasing after you."

I replied with a flat "oh."

My mother tagged me. "Don't be upset, honey. Mom and Dad just forgot about you. Next time we go out, we'll definitely bring you along."

"It's fine."

I was used to their frequent "forgetting."

My uncle, my aunt, the whole crowd of them chattered away in the group without stopping.

I didn't say another word.

By evening, dark clouds rolled in and rain came pouring down.

Dylan called me.

"Sis, are you home? Is it raining hard there? Close my window for me, would you? And while you're at it, wash my socks. I left in a rush and forgot to wash them."

My parents took the phone from him.

My mother reminded me, "Watch my potted plants. Don't let the rain kill them."

My father said, "My chess set's out on the balcony. Remember to bring it in."

They remembered the unwashed socks, worried about the plants getting rained on, feared the chess set soaking through.

No one asked whether I'd eaten, whether I was hungry.

In their eyes, every blade of grass, every leaf in that house, maybe even a single tissue, mattered more than I did.

Maybe it was because I'd stayed silent and hadn't answered.

My parents kept pushing me for a reply.

And I just answered flatly, "I'm not home."

On the other end of the line, my parents clearly stalled for a second.

Mom asked me, It's pouring out there, so what are you still doing outside? Get home now and bring my potted plants in for me.

Dad got worked up too.

My chess set can't get rained on. Hurry back and put it away.

My brother was even more frantic.

Sis, where'd you run off to when you should be home?

My computer's right by the window.

If nobody closes it,

my computer's going to get ruined by the rain.

Listening to all their complaints,

I said calmly, I don't want to sit at home being a freeloader.

The line went quiet for a few seconds.

Mom asked, You... heard what we said?

Just two days earlier,

my parents had brought me up while talking in the living room.

On one hand they were praising my brother for being so capable.

Barely a few days into the job, and his manager was already praising him.

On the other hand they were putting me down.

Good grades, and yet there I was at home sponging off them, a freeloader.

Are you mad at your mom and dad?

Dad asked me.

No.

It's just that I've graduated too, and my brother's working now. I can't stay home doing nothing forever.

My brother asked me, curious, Sis, did you find a job?

I gave a soft mm.

Congrats, then.

Can you take the day off and go back to close the window for me?

That computer's the new one Mom and Dad set up for me.

It's super expensive.

He'd always say do it for me, and I never once refused.

But this time,

I refused without hesitation.

Sorry, can't help you.

Laurel Pruitt, how much can that dead-end job of yours even pay in a month? Don't make me cuss you out. Take a day off and get back there, or just quit, either way.

Dad's tone turned sharp.

Have fun, all of you.

I hung up on the spot.

A little while later,

the phone rang again, ringing like it was screaming for my life.

I turned it off.

By then I was already on a plane headed two thousand miles away.

I hadn't said goodbye to anyone.

And I hadn't told a soul where I was going.

The next day.

My parents and brother got home.

The potted plants were dead, the chess set was ruined, and the computer was broken too.

Their mouths never stopped, all curses and complaints.

When your sister gets home from work,

I'm going to chew her out for good!

My brother's eyes went red. I'm yelling at her too. My computer was so nice and now it's wrecked. I'm furious!

By night, twelve midnight.

Their daughter still hadn't come home.

And that was when

my brother cried out, Mom, Dad, stop waiting. Sis isn't coming back.

What do you mean?

She took all her luggage.

And she left a letter.

Once they'd read what was in the letter,

the three of them were dumbfounded.

What is this supposed to mean? She didn't say where she's going.

Just that she'll be gone three to five years?

And something about how this family doesn't need her.

But some place out there really needs her.

It's honestly a joke.

A bookworm who can't do anything but study.

What's she acting out for when everything was fine?