Leaving the Family that Hurt Me to Find Beauty

"What's all the noise about? I guess you're full and have the energy! Go wash the clothes." My mom, clutching her waist, emerged from the kitchen on the side, her eyebrows tightly furrowed.

A sudden realization thundered in my head. My hands, hanging by my sides, couldn't stop trembling. I almost collapsed to the ground, swallowing hard. "Where's Amber?"

My mom passed by me, paused, and looked down with a gaze that held no evasion. "Dead," she said, then averted her gaze and stepped into the inner room. "You're just despicable, not destined for better."

"Go wash the clothes, or you won't have dinner tonight."

Her voice floated from the inner room, airy and tinged with a hint of pride, a hint of relief.

Despite our poor home, I thought we were always a family, that they at least loved us, though they loved my brother more.

It turns out that wasn't the case. Amber and I could be discarded at any time, unloved.

At dinner, seeing my father's gloomy face, I knew he was aware of it, too.

So, I didn't bother asking anything further.

Tonight's dinner was unusually lavish, with two types of salads, ham and a big bowl of chicken soup on the table.

Seeing me cry, Mother sneered, "Oh, don't eat the meal Amber paid for with her life, you worthless creature!"

I bowed my head and shoveled a mouthful of the dishes, tears falling in large drops, yet my tongue couldn't help but savor this rare, delicious taste.

The next day, while working in the fields, I overheard people from the village talking and learned that Amber hadn't died; she had been sold.

I breathed a sigh of relief. I was glad that she wasn't dead.

"Angela, you have no idea how wealthy the visitors were yesterday. They bought three girls in one go; Amber went off to live a better life."

The logic seemed sound to me. Perhaps being bought by a wealthy person was better than staying here. At least there would be food at every meal.

She looked at me closely, then added, "But you're not as fortunate; you don't have Amber's beauty, and nobody would want you."

Suddenly, I understood what my mother meant when she said I was not destined for better.

I felt happy for Amber, but a strange feeling subtly crept into my heart.

The money from Amber's sale bought us that meal, and after that, even heavier burdens were placed upon my shoulders.

Days passed, and my mother's belly grew more extensive, signaling the impending birth.

My uncle's wife, Samantha Lewis, came to visit, fanning herself and eyeing my mother's round belly with a sigh. "Oh dear, that belly is so round; it looks like it's going to be a girl. It would be quite the joke if after selling Amber, you gave birth to another girl."

I've only just realized why my mother, who once had a bit of maternal love, has changed so drastically.

In the Lewis family, my father was the youngest son and oddly received the largest share of the inheritance, which always made the other branches resentful, leading them to mock and scorn us frequently.

Especially after my mother had two daughters in a row while my uncles had sons, their arrogance only increased.

This year, the harvest failed again, and it worsened my father's temper. He began to hit and yell at my mother, who, in turn, became harsh towards us.

My mother was so infuriated by these words that after Samantha left, she furiously pounded on my back, saying, "You're such a loss, if not for you, I wouldn't be looked down upon. Why don't you just die?"

Her blows almost caused me internal injuries, but it was nothing compared to the heartache of realizing I honestly wasn't loved.