After I Stopped Eating Leftovers, My Whole Family Wept With Regret

1: 1

For as long as I can remember, everything I owned was secondhand.

The water bottle I carried in grade school was Cynthia Henson's old baby bottle.

In middle school, Mom made Cynthia a different fancy lunch every single day.

My lunch was always whatever Cynthia couldn't finish.

Three years boarding at high school.

I slept under a torn sheet Cynthia had kicked to shreds, and my skincare was whatever freebies came with her shopping.

Every year my parents booked out an upscale restaurant for Cynthia's birthday.

My birthday cake was always the free cookies the restaurant threw in.

I told my parents it wasn't fair.

I didn't want the leftovers. I didn't want the hand-me-downs.

Mom looked at me like I disgusted her.

"Why is it always you making a fuss? It's family that used it, family that ate it. It's not dirty. What are you being so precious about?"

Dad's voice was ice.

"Do you know how many kids in poor areas don't even get to eat? Don't sit there in comfort and act like you're suffering."

"You're the older sister. You're supposed to give way to your sister, cover for her. Stop being so selfish."

"Instead of comparing yourself to the top students, all you care about is keeping up with people and showing off."

I thought if I just did well enough in school, I could earn a little fair love out of them.

Until the SATs ended.

The coming-of-age gift my parents gave me was a few pairs of Cynthia's worn-out old shoes.

Cynthia got a car and $200,000 in cash.

Something in me just went tired.

My hand tightened around the score report in it, the report that said I was the top student in the state.

If there was no place for me in this family, then I didn't want it anymore.

......

Clatter.

A few pairs of shoes hit the floor by my feet like trash.

"Sis, I'm bored of these two pairs."

"The edges are a little torn, but sew them up and they're still good. Consider it a gift."

She said it with a smile, like she was doing charity.

I looked down at myself.

The jacket I was wearing was one Cynthia had gotten sick of.

The cuffs stopped way short of my wrists.

The pants were my brother's castoffs, washed pale.

Head to toe, I was dressed in the scraps they didn't want.

Mom pulled Cynthia into her arms, her smile all doting.

"That's my baby, always so thoughtful. Anything good comes along and she thinks of her sister first."

"Not like some people, whose whole head is nothing but showing off and keeping up, who can't put their mind to their studies and only pick up bad habits."

She turned to me, and her face went dark.

Her voice was impatient.

"Alexandra Henson! What are you standing there spacing out for?"

"Cynthia was kind enough to give you a gift, and you can't even say thank you?"

"All those years in school, did you go stupid? You don't even have basic manners."

Dad's face was sour too.

"This child, Alexandra, she's got such a withdrawn temper."

"Only your own family will put up with your attitude. Out in the real world, nobody will indulge you."

I opened my mouth, and my throat was dry as sand.

Thank her for what?

Thank her for dumping the trash she'd worn to death on me?

The words rose up inside me, and I swallowed them back down.

For as long as I can remember, I could never shake the label of secondhand.

I wore old clothes that never fit.

I ate the cold leftovers Cynthia couldn't stomach.

And any time I said it wasn't fair, all I ever got was my parents raining blame down on me.

Every other word was:

"You're the older sister, you give way to your sister."

"You're the older sister, you understand how hard your parents work for money."

Once, I clung stubbornly to the idea that if my grades were good enough, I'd earn a sliver of favor, a little gentleness.

So I studied like I'd lost my mind.

Scored a 711. Top student in the state.

I gripped my score report and drew in a deep breath.

"Mom, Dad, my SAT scores are out..."

But I only got halfway before Mom cut me off, cold.

"Doesn't matter."

"You're going to the same community college as Cynthia, so you can look after your sister later."

"Out there isn't like home. Cynthia won't have a servant waiting on her. How's she supposed to handle dirty work like laundry and cooking?"

Dad nodded and picked it up.

"You? A girl who can't even pass a foreign language, and you think you're going to some good school?"

"Don't go dreaming about picking and choosing. Take good care of Cynthia. At least then you'll be worth something."

My fingertips dug hard into my palm, the sharp pain shooting through.

Can't pass a foreign language.

That was second grade.

They'd been holding onto it ever since.

From middle school on, I came in first in my grade more times than I could count.

They didn't remember a single one.

They only remembered what foods Cynthia wouldn't eat, what she liked against her skin.

They remembered my brother's favorite athletes and clothing brands.

And the thick stack of award certificates I'd earned all sat piled by the door.

Waiting for the woman who collected recycling to haul them off.

"It's not just Alexandra who gets a gift. Cynthia does too."

"In this family, we treat our children with the fairest hand."

My dad kicked the old shoes aside and tossed a car key to Cynthia.

"Once you're in college, want to go somewhere for fun, just drive yourself."

Mom took out a bank card.

"Two hundred thousand. Spend it however you want, Cynthia."

"A girl needs nice food and nice clothes, or people look down on her."

I stood there and watched Cynthia smugly post it all to her feed.

The bitterness sat heavy in me.

So it turned out they did know how to love a daughter. They just didn't love me.

2: 2

"Your dad and I are taking Cynthia to pick up her car, and we still need to buy her things for college."

Mom stood up.

"You"

She paused, as if only now remembering I existed.

"You make your brother a meal."

"He's got driving lessons this afternoon. Take some water and food over to the driving school."

"Learning to drive is exhausting. You make sure your brother gets proper nutrition."

Christopher Henson, who'd been playing games this whole time, gave me a nod.

That was supposed to be a greeting.

"But I... I have to go back to school this afternoon to submit my college applications."

There was an edge of urgency in my voice.

"Those garbage scores of yours, what applications are you even submitting?"

Mom frowned in distaste.

"You're community-college material either way. I told you to go to the same school as Cynthia. Are your ears broken?"

Dad looked at me too, like I was hopeless.

"Alexandra, can't you be more sensible? Stop causing trouble for this family."

"You're the only useless one in this house. If you don't take care of your brother, who will?"

I lowered my head in silence, knowing there was no getting out of it today.

Just like the day of my second mock exam.

Mom had marched straight into the testing hall and dragged me out by the arm.

"Your sister has a singing competition today, and she doesn't even have a cheering section. How's that going to look?"

"You get over there right now and be her crowd."

The next day, my homeroom teacher called my parents in because I'd walked out of the exam.

But Mom just shot me a look of disgust.

"You bombed the test yourself. Now you want to drag me down and humiliate me along with you?"

"You can't even take an exam seriously. You'll never amount to anything when you grow up, and I'm not cleaning up your messes."

Then she took my sister off on a trip out of state.

And because my parents wouldn't cooperate, I was punished with a public apology in front of the whole school.

The bastard nobody wanted, that's what the other students called me.

I spent the whole afternoon at the driving school.

Under a sun pushing a hundred and five degrees, I ran to buy my brother water, cigarettes, and food.

Just when I was so worn out I could barely stay on my feet

My brother held out a soda. "You've worked hard today. Take a break."

I looked at the soda, reached halfway, then pulled my hand back.

His eyes darkened.

"You're still holding on to what happened back then?"

I stayed quiet and didn't answer.

Freshman year of high school, my blood sugar crashed and I fainted at home.

My brother scrambled to scoop out a piece of cake and pushed it into my mouth, and that was what brought me around.

But my sister threw a fit the moment she got home.

"Why did my sister steal a bite of my birthday cake?"

"I'm not touching your leftover garbage. I don't want a birthday anymore."

Mom wouldn't hear a word of it. She pinned me down in the yard and made me kneel all night.

Dad was so angry he slapped me across the face several times.

The pouring rain soaked me until I was shaking, until a fever came on.

I held out until my brother finally came home.

Crying, I begged him to speak up for me.

"Christopher, I didn't steal the cake."

He looked at me, soaked through, then looked at our fuming sister.

And said in a low voice,

"You'd even steal your sister's cake? How can you have so little decency?"

"You deserve the punishment."

That was the first time I ever felt my heart go dead.

"Thanks, but I'm really not thirsty."

I worked to keep my smile easy.

Christopher gave me a complicated look and had just opened his mouth when Mom's call came through.

"Alexandra, get to the restaurant right now. We're throwing you a graduation party."

"So no one gets the wrong idea and thinks we play favorites as parents."

Her tone was stiff, but the words hit me like a bolt of lightning through my whole body.

Mom and Dad were throwing me a graduation party!

Tears welled up in my eyes all at once.

That hope buried deep inside me, long since gone cold, suddenly flickered with a bit of light.

Maybe I... maybe I could be seen too.

My brother watched me laughing and crying at once, and something complicated crossed his face.

Several times he seemed about to speak.

In the end he just said softly,

"Let me drive you over."

I heard the restaurant had been booked out by a big client, so my table had been shoved out into the hallway.

It was shabby, but I didn't mind.

It wasn't like I had any friends coming anyway.

The dishes on the table were small servings, more like half portions.

If anything, I was glad.

I don't eat much. Nothing would go to waste.

On a sheet of printer paper I wrote out the words: Alexandra's Graduation Party.

And I waited for the whole family to arrive so we could eat.

But my brother took a phone call and got up without hesitation to leave.

"Are Mom and Dad and Cynthia here?"

I asked, a little nervous.

"I'll come with you to meet them"

Before I could finish, my brother waved me off.

"I've been to your graduation party. Now I'm going to Cynthia's."

And with that, he pushed open the banquet hall doors.

One glance was all it took to freeze me in place.

Inside it was packed and roaring with noise, nearly half the grade there.

Up on the stage, my sister stood in a custom-made gown, greeting the crowd.

Mom and Dad stood beside her, smiling.

A waiter passing by looked on with envy and sighed.

"What a grand affair!"

"They booked out the entire restaurant just to celebrate her getting into college."

"Being their daughter must be such a blessing. That's what real backing looks like."

In that moment, the sheet of paper in my hand slipped silently to the floor.

3: 3

The banquet hall was dazzling.

Balloons drifted across the whole ceiling, every one of them printed with Cynthia Henson's name.

It made the sheet of A4 paper I'd written out by hand look like a joke.

I stood frozen at the door, alone.

Everything inside was warm and loud, and none of it had room for me.

The tears came without warning.

Why?

We were both his daughters. Why did my sister get to stand in the middle of all that attention,

while I was the clown who wasn't fit to be seen?

I wanted to storm in and scream, to accuse them of everything.

Then my phone lit up.

It was Mom.

You look too cheap. Don't come in and embarrass Cynthia.

Go eat your own party out there and stop making trouble.

You're the older sister. Act like it.

Just a few short lines, and the last bit of warmth left in me went out for good.

Stiffly, I moved back to the little table in the hallway.

I reached out, grabbed the food, and shoved it into my mouth, numb.

Chew, swallow.

The same mechanical motions, over and over, and my tongue couldn't taste a thing.

"It's fine. Mom and Dad still love me."

"It's fine. My table's just a little smaller, that's all."

"It's fine. I'm the older sister. I should know better..."

But somehow the tears kept coming, more and more.

I swallowed them down one by one.

They were bitter.

Every waiter who passed shot me a look of disgust.

"Where'd this little beggar come from? Eating like she's starving to death."

"No shame at all. Who crashes someone else's graduation party?"

Each sneer went in like a needle, straight into my ears.

I couldn't hold on any longer. I stood and stumbled away.

But two steps in, everything went black.

My throat closed up like something was stuck in it, and I couldn't breathe.

Only then did it hit me. There'd been mango in the food I'd just eaten.

I was allergic.

"Dad... Mom..."

On instinct I turned to my parents for help.

But my mother just put a hand on her hip and sneered.

"We just made you eat outside, and now you're playing sick?"

"Can't you go one day without stirring things up? Will you only be happy once you've driven your sister into the ground?"

My father barked at me,

"If you don't want a graduation party, then get lost. Nobody's begging you to eat."

They pulled the banquet hall doors shut, hard.

The next instant, I collapsed to the floor.

When I came to, I was in a hospital.

I opened my eyes in a daze and heard my mother's voice.

Her tone was shrill, thoroughly irritated.

"What is Alexandra even trying to do? All she does is cause trouble for this family!"

"She ruined a perfectly good party, and Cynthia was upset the whole day because of it!"

My father's voice was cold and disappointed. "So she ate a few bites of mango. Does that really warrant all this drama?"

"I think she's faking it on purpose. She just wants attention."

"The food at her table was Cynthia's leftovers anyway, and Cynthia ate plenty of it and was perfectly fine."

My heart clenched again.

No wonder the portions had looked so small...

So even my graduation party had been secondhand.

I kept my eyes shut and forced myself to look asleep, but the tears wouldn't stop pouring out.

For the whole week that followed, no one came to see me.

Not a single phone call.

And then, on my sister's feed, I saw the four of them on vacation abroad.

So it wasn't that they'd been too busy.

They just weren't willing to spare me even a sliver of care.

The day I was discharged,

I handled the paperwork alone and took a cab home.

I dragged the old suitcase out from under my bed.

Since there was no place for me in this family, I wouldn't be in their way any longer.

I packed, and a bitter smile came with it.

Eighteen years of living, and apart from a pile of hand-me-downs, the things that were actually mine barely filled half a case.

Once everything was packed, I opened my phone and entered Clearwood University as my choice.

More than a thousand miles from this house.

I would never see them again.

And just as I'd booked my ticket and was about to leave for the train station,

the door was kicked open.

4: 4

My mother stood there, face dark, glaring at me.

"Alexandra Henson! Did you hit someone with a car?"

"You little monster!"

"You cause trouble and all you know how to do is hide. You don't even have the guts to face what you did! We fed you all these years for nothing!"

She yanked me so hard I stumbled.

"Mom, what are you talking about? I've been in the hospital the whole time"

I looked up, lost.

My father jabbed a finger in my face and roared,

"You do wrong, you own it!"

"The victim's family is already at our door! And you still dare lie."

He turned aside. Several men stood outside the doorway.

Iron pipes in their hands, faces full of rage.

"I already told you, it wasn't me." I said it word by word.

Cynthia wore a look like she had my best interests at heart, and coaxed,

"Sis, wasn't ruining my graduation party enough? You went and hurt someone too?"

"Just admit it. Don't keep making things worse."

I looked at my brother without thinking.

He'd filled in my admission paperwork. All he had to do was pull up the records...

But he looked away, and said in a low voice,

"You made this mess, you clean it up. Don't count on the family to take the fall for you."

Every word was a nail driven into my chest.

"It wasn't me! I don't even know how to drive!"

"If it wasn't you, then who?"

My mother shoved me hard, and I slammed into the wall, pain blacking out my vision.

"You're the only one in this family who's nothing but trouble!"

She pointed at my face and shrieked, "You're going with the victim's family right now, to atone."

Those vicious-looking men looked me up and down, taking in my clothes.

"She looks this shabby. She can afford a car?"

Their tone was doubtful. "Better not be getting played..."

I seized the chance to hold up my phone and open the hospital records.

"I really was in the hospital for seven days."

"This is the chart, this is the payment receipt..."

But my mother snatched the phone out of my hand and smashed it hard against the floor.

The screen went black instantly.

"Acting! Keep acting!"

She looked at me, all disappointment.

"You think you can fake a medical chart and slip through?"

"Let me tell you, if you don't confess today, I don't have a daughter like you."

She dragged me into the inner room and shut the door.

When she turned around, her eyes were rimmed red.

"Alexandra, my baby."

She lowered her voice, pleading,

"Your sister's about to start college. She can't have a record."

"If word of this gets out, how is she supposed to live it down?"

I froze.

"You're the older sister. You have to protect your sister."

"Just confess, all right?"

I stared at her, dazed.

So my life was meant to be sacrificed.

So even when everyone knew it wasn't my fault, they would force it onto my head anyway.

My eyes went red.

In eighteen years, this was the first time she'd called me her baby.

And it was to make me take the blame for her little daughter.

Something in my chest felt like it split open.

The pain made it hard to breathe.

"Fine. I'll confess."

My voice was calmer than it had any right to be.

"I confess."

My parents let out a breath, as if a weight had lifted.

I was hauled to the hospital by the whole group.

The victim's parents rushed straight at me, each grabbing a fistful of my hair.

"So it's you, you little monster?"

"If my son ends up disabled, I'm not done with you."

They forced me down onto my knees, my forehead pressed to the floor.

The slaps came down like rain.

I knelt for a day and a night.

By some mercy, the victim was fine.

They dumped me roughly out on the road and left me to fend for myself.

My phone had slid out of my pocket, the screen cracked, but it still worked.

There was a message from my father.

Alexandra, you have to smooth things over with them.

If they insist on suing, give them the document in your pocket.

Trembling, I pulled a sheet of paper out of my pocket.

Liability Waiver for Injury or Death

At the bottom were four signatures.

Dad, Mom, my brother, my sister.

I stared at those four names for a long time.

Then I laughed.

So from the very beginning, they'd been ready to sacrifice me.

Even if I'd been beaten to death in the street, they could use my life to keep my sister safe.

My family really was so considerate toward my sister...

I laughed until I couldn't breathe, and then came the dry heaving, wave after wave.

I borrowed three hundred dollars from my homeroom teacher and bought a train ticket.

Just then, another message came from my mother.

I heard they're dropping the case over there. What are you still wasting time for? Get your ass back home!

Cynthia's redoing her graduation party. We're short a greeter. Come back and help.

As a reward, the bedding set you take to college can be new, not Cynthia's hand-me-downs.

Expressionless, I watched the screen go dark.

Your reward is too heavy. I don't want it anymore.

The moment the train pulled away,

I knew I was free.