Sister Called Me Dramatic; I Quit, They Complained

On my sister's birthday, I smashed her eight-tiered cake onto the floor.

She wasn't angry. Instead, she pulled out a pointer right there on the spot.

She aimed it at my face and started giving a live lesson.

Everyone, take a good look. This is histrionic personality disorder.

They act out to show off in front of others just to grab the world's attention.

"The best treatment is to ignore her."

I stood there frozen, trying to explain that someone had smeared lubricant all over the stairs.

But the moment I opened my mouth, my furious mother slapped me so hard my ears rang.

From that day on, I became invisible in my own home.

When I stood on tiptoe to reach the top box and it hit me on the head, my mother walked right past me without any expression.

When I bent down to tie my shoelaces while we were out shopping, my sister had already left me behind and briskly crossed the next intersection.

Even at the proposal I so carefully prepared, my childhood sweetheart kept his head down playing on his phone and didn't spare me a single glance from start to finish.

I knelt in front of him, holding up the ring.

My presence counted for less than a puff of air.

I glanced at the backdrop I had set up with my own hands, and suddenly felt exhausted to the bone.

I didn't want to keep playing this one-woman show.

1.

My arm holding up the ring ached, and I'd already repeated my proposal vows for the sixth time.

Curt stood over me, his fingers tapping away at his screen.

This wasn't the first time he'd ignored me like this.

But today was special, and I thought he would be different.

He tapped open a chat, and a string of voice messages spilled out.

"Curt, you're not actually paying attention to her, are you?"

There was a tension in the voice trying to sound relaxed.

It was my younger sister, Kate.

Curt replied crisply, just two words.

No.

The other side seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

"She's just trying to control you with this trick. If you react to her, she'll only try harder next time."

I lowered my eyes, stood up, and brushed the dust off my knees.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Curt's phone screen.

It was a group chat with only three people in it.

Mom, my sister, and him.

The group was called Beating the Severe Histrionic Personality Patient.

Every message in it was them sharing their victories.

Mom said:

"She told me this morning she had a headache, but I ignored her. I think she just saw me buy Kate a gift last night and was hinting that I should get her one too."

My sister said:

"Yesterday when we were out shopping, the light turned green, but of course she had to crouch down to tie her shoelaces right then."

"I didn't indulge her. I just walked off on my own."

"Later I found a coffee shop and watched her look for me for half an hour under the blazing sun."

Seeing me stand up, Curt finally spoke his first words to me all day.

"Done acting?"

So all my needs had only ever been an act in their eyes.

I nodded, my voice soft but firm.

"Done acting. I've had enough of it."

I didn't want to go through another round of the deliberate ignoring and mockery of the past six months.

He reached out and patted my head, his voice gentle.

"You've made progress today. You finally admit everything you did was a performance."

"But Kate says the treatment has to continue. We can't let our guard down completely just because of one success."

He held his hand out in front of me and gave a soft laugh.

"But as a reward for your progress, I'll let you slip that prop ring from the dollar store onto my finger."

It felt like a wad of cotton had been stuffed into my chest, making it hard to breathe.

I looked down at the men's ring in my hand.

To buy it, I'd worked part-time for a whole year.

I scrimped and saved, didn't even buy myself a single extra piece of clothing.

We'd been together for three years; naturally our relationship needed to take a step forward.

I figured, since Curt wouldn't say it, then I would.

But now it felt like a silent mockery.

I closed the ring box and put it back in my backpack.

"Never mind. I'm going to return it."

Curt's smile froze on his lips, a flash of annoyance in his eyes.

"Then hurry up and pack your things and go. Stop taking up a space someone else paid to book."

I wanted to say I wouldn't be taking it up.

Every inch of this place I had arranged with my own hands.

The bouquet used Curt's favorite roses; my hands were pricked bloody while I trimmed the thorns.

The venue was painted in his favorite blue, every brushstroke of paint applied by my own hand.

But he'd noticed none of it.

It didn't matter anymore.

I sent a message to the person who rented me the venue.

"All the decorations here are yours to keep. I'll transfer the rest of the venue fee to you now."

The reply came back fast.

"Over so soon? You must have nailed it on the first try, right?"

I swallowed down the bitterness in my mouth.

"No. I'm planning to break up."

When I got home, the living room was empty.

The leftovers from dinner sat on the table.

Bowls of scraps were all mixed together, like a trough of slop.

This was Mom's punishment for me knocking over my sister's birthday cake.

She said I didn't value food and had done it just to grab attention, and that from now on I'd eat nothing but their leftovers at every meal.

A month ago, at their worst, they even tried to commit me to a psychiatric hospital.

Mom set the birthday video in front of the doctor.

"Look at this. She smashed her sister's birthday cake in front of everyone."

"I ordered that cake a month in advance through a contact. She's either rotten-hearted or out of her mind."

I dug my fingernails into my palms and cried, over and over, that I hadn't meant to.

That someone had tampered with the stairs.

The next second, all I got were several sharp slaps to the face.

"So now you've learned to lie too. What's next, are you going to say your sister set you up?"

I opened my mouth, but the words caught in my throat and I didn't know what to say.

In the end it was the hospital that refused to admit me, and only then did I get to go home safe.

Once we were home, my sister held up a psychology manual in front of Mom and patted her chest, swearing.

"I'm sure I can cure my sister's illness."

She told everyone to avoid talking to me as much as possible.

"The more attention you give her, the worse her illness gets."

So everyone started to freeze me out.

I cried, I made scenes, I even went to a psychiatrist and got a certificate.

Trying to prove I was a normal person.

But no one was willing to believe it.

I ignored the mess covering the table and went straight to my room to shower.

While I was hanging my laundry to dry, the balcony door behind me was suddenly locked.

Kate stood inside, mouthing the words with a smug look on her face.

"Beginning the final withdrawal treatment."

The heat didn't reach the balcony, and in my thin pajamas I got so cold my lips turned purple.

I pounded on the door and begged for help, but she just shook her head.

"Sis, you're still putting on an act."

"If you were really cold, you wouldn't be able to talk so smoothly."

"People only completely drop their masks under extreme conditions."

Mom handed her a bowl of hot soup.

"Kate really does have a sharp eye. She saw through the act in one glance."

The room was warm and hazy, and they curled up on the sofa watching TV, deaf to my cries for help.

Finally, the living room lights went out.

The heat kept pouring out of my body.

In the end, I couldn't even stay standing.

I could only crouch in the corner, running a fever through the night until I passed out.

I thought I would freeze to death on that little balcony.

When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in bed.

Curt sat at the head of the bed, changing out another fever patch on my forehead that was soaked through with sweat.

I saw the pain in his eyes, and my heart softened.

I thought his first words would be words of comfort.

But instead he said,

"Kate went a bit too far this time, but she didn't do anything wrong."

There was a ringing in my ears, and I thought I'd misheard.

So I asked again, unwilling to let it go.

"What did you just say?"

He pulled out a few tissues and wiped his hands.

"She meant well. Don't make such a big deal of it."

"And don't let me catch you fighting with Kate over this."

I closed my eyes, and the last trace of warmth in my heart went cold for good.

There was a knock at the door.

The door opened, and Kate was standing outside.

Her eyes were red, like she'd been crying.

"Sis, I had no idea it was that cold out there."

"I made sure to shut all the windows."

Winter in Harrisburg turns dripping water to ice.

A house with no heat can freeze a person to death.

She said she didn't know that simple fact.

Mom stood behind her, glaring at me, her eyes warning me not to push it any further.

Cold sweat soaked the mattress under me over and over.

Even my breath came out hot.

And Kate only had to smear a little blush around her eyes to win everyone's favor.

It had always been this way.

Everyone believed her but me.

After Curt left, Kate closed the door.

By the time she reached my bedside, her expression had changed completely.

"I heard you proposed to Curt today."

I turned over to face away from her, but I couldn't shut off her endless chatter.

"Curt is mine. Don't even think about taking him."

"Mom's love is mine too. Don't think you'll get even a sliver of it."

She reached out, dragged me back around, and poured the scalding medicine from the bowl straight into my mouth.

Her hands were heavy, and her voice was heavier.

"Nancy Henson, sometimes I really want you to get out of this house."

The medicine choked into my nose, and I instinctively flailed my arms.

In the struggle, the bowl fell to the floor and shattered.

I braced myself on my arms and coughed desperately, my throat burning like fire.

Rushed, uneven footsteps came from outside the door.

The instant it was pushed open, Kate was standing beside me with her hands hanging down.

Her face was full of helplessness and fear.

"I just wanted to give my sister her medicine."

"Sis, if you're angry, you can hit me, beat me, but don't take it out on your own body."

Curt stood in the doorway, his face darkening.

"Nancy Henson, apologize."

My gaze fell on the pinch marks on my wrist. My voice was hoarse to the extreme.

"I did nothing wrong. She forced the medicine down my throat."

The room went silent.

Half a minute later, Kate lowered her head and began to cry.

"Curt, what do I do?"

"Sis's illness seems to have gotten worse."

"I think I've made a mess of everything..."

Curt strode in.

Not to check on my injuries, but to gently gather Kate into his arms.

He patted her back, one soft pat after another.

"It's not your fault. Don't take the blame on yourself."

Then he turned to look at me.

His voice was thick with disappointment.

"Nancy, you shouldn't have done this."

I swallowed hard and forced myself through the knife-sharp pain in my throat.

"What did I do?"

"Throwing dirt on Kate just to get attention."

I let out a soft laugh.

A wave of helplessness swept over my whole body in an instant.

"Get out."

"I don't want to see either of you."

Kate peeked out from Curt's arms.

"Sis, rest well."

"We've agreed to go hiking tomorrow. Get ready, and don't fall behind."

My eyelids grew heavier and heavier.

"I'm not going."

At some point, Mom had come to stand in the doorway.

"Kate has everything ready. Don't ruin the fun."

It was always like this.

No one had ever really listened to a word I said.

The door swung shut, but the voices outside didn't stop.

Kate went into the room.

After she closed the door, Curt's voice came, low.

"Ma'am, Nancy's fever is pretty bad this time."

Mom cut him off at once.

"Don't go soft. If Kate hears that, she'll definitely make a scene."

"Kate's birthday wish this year is for us to go along with a little prank of hers, and we can't spoil her fun."

"Don't forget, you're the one who smeared the grease on the stairs yourself."

I closed my eyes, and tears rolled down from the corners.

My heart felt like it was being sawed back and forth by a dull blade, bleeding from the pain.

So it turned out they all knew I wasn't acting; they were simply watching my suffering with cold, indifferent eyes.

So it turned out that all of this had begun over nothing more than a small birthday wish from Kate.

Everyone was bullying me.

Under the raging fever, I finally slipped into a hazy faint.

The next morning, my mother yanked me out of bed.

The grogginess hadn't lifted from my head yet.

When I stood up, the room in front of me kept spinning.

"Hurry up. Kate and Curt have been waiting downstairs for ages."

She shoved me into the back seat. The heat in the car was cranked way up.

Kate sat in the passenger seat, playing music off her phone over Bluetooth.

When the shrill heavy metal came blasting out, my temples throbbed a couple of times.

Kate's voice was very soft.

"Curt, open the back window, it's a little stuffy in here."

Curt flicked her forehead.

"Say brother."

Then the window on my side rolled halfway down.

The cold wind poured straight into my neck, sharp and biting.

My throat started to itch, and I couldn't hold back a few muffled coughs.

"Could you close it? I'm a little cold."

No one reacted.

I knew they were starting to fulfill that default birthday wish again.

I had reached the onset period Kate had decided on for me.

Kate started handing out her supplies.

"Curt, have this orange, it's so sweet."

"Mom, have this bread, it smells wonderful."

I curled up in the back seat and went completely silent.

By the time we reached the foot of the mountain, I felt like I'd just been fished out of the water.

My mother gave me a hard shove.

"Move faster, quit dawdling."

Then she brushed past me and caught up with the others ahead.

I dragged my feet and barely managed to keep up.

They took an undeveloped trail, thick with weeds and brush, where one wrong step could send you tumbling down the slope.

My voice was so hoarse it was almost inaudible.

"This trail is too dangerous."

The three of them ahead didn't even break stride.

Kate charged out in front.

Curt stayed behind her, sweeping aside the weeds in her path.

My mother followed behind them, holding up her phone to photograph the scenery.

I stopped, lowered my head, and took a few quick breaths. When I looked up again, they had vanished completely.

My heart lurched.

"Curt!"

"Mom!"

Everything around me was empty. Not the slightest response.

My steps quickened.

The next second, my right foot slipped, and I plunged down out of control.

After a dizzying whirl, a sharp pain shot through the back of my head.

...

Not far ahead, in the tall grass, Kate had pulled Curt and my mother down into a crouch among the weeds.

The grass here was tall and dense, enough to hide all three of them completely.

Curt's brow furrowed.

"Why isn't there any sound? Nothing happened to Nancy, did it?"

Kate rolled her eyes.

"What could happen to her?"

"We're just making her worry for a bit, letting her suffer a little, so she stops trying to hog everyone's attention."

The mother patted her chest to reassure him too.

"That girl's got the toughest luck of anyone. We'll go on our way, and she'll catch up in no time."

So the three of them set off again.

They hadn't gone far when a professional climbing team stopped them.

"This trail hasn't been developed yet. How did you end up on it?"

Kate's face went pale.

"I followed a guide online. It said this route would get you there just in time for sunset."

They waved their hands.

"We climb all the time, we can't be wrong. You got fooled."

They had Kate and the other two join their group.

After switching to another route, everyone caught the sunset without any trouble.

By the time they got back to the foot of the mountain, it was already pitch dark.

"You should head back early. It's very dangerous in the mountains at night."

Curt suddenly grabbed his arm, his face pale.

"But we've still got someone up there!"