Mom Im Not Your Trophy

When school let out, my eighteen-year-old sister Sarah whispered the news to Mom, her face burning with shame. She thought she might have started her period.

Mom's eyes went wide. Incredulous. Then her voice climbed to a shriek that cut through the afternoon air.

"How is that possible? Didn't I make you take progesterone to delay it?"

"You're about to take the college entrance exam! If this thing comes now, won't it ruin your study schedule again?"

Heads turned. Classmates passing by slowed their steps, casting sidelong glances, whispering behind cupped hands.

Mom didn't notice. Or didn't care. Right there—in full view of everyone—she reached out, intending to check for herself.

"Are you lying to me? You just want an excuse to slack off, don't you?"

Sarah clutched her waistband and backed away, step by step, her face draining to chalk white as she became the center of the growing crowd's attention.

My sister. The perennial Model Student. She'd slipped to second place this year.

That was her crime.

Back home, the violence escalated. Mom smashed a teapot against Sarah's head.

Terror seized me. I bolted out the door, screaming into the empty street. "Mom is going to kill her! Help!"

——

Later, Mom found a password-protected notebook in Sarah's drawer.

She tried a few combinations. Nothing worked. Frustration twisted her mouth as she muttered to herself, "Depression at such a young age? Fine. I want to see exactly *why* she's so depressed."

She grabbed a flathead screwdriver.

Panic shot through me. I rushed forward. "Mom, don't! That's Sarah's privacy. If you break her most treasured possession, she'll hate you!"

Mom shoved me aside like I weighed nothing.

"Privacy?" She snorted. "I gave birth to her. I raised her. What could she possibly have that she can't tell me?" The screwdriver bit into the lock's seam. "If she won't talk, I'll look for myself."

*Click.*

The lock snapped. Mom flipped open the diary.

*Monday the 20th, Sunny*

*I met a stray toy poodle by the roadside today. It's so cute. It's a pity Mom won't let me keep a dog.*

*But my only friend, Savannah Finch, took it home. Her mom named the little poodle Whirlwind.*

*Holding it, making a warm bed for it, taking it to the vet when it was sick—Savannah's mom is so kind!*

*Wednesday the 21st, Sunny*

*I ate the last chicken drumstick at dinner. Mom beat me for two hours. She said I don't know how to yield to others.*

*It hurts so much, but Mom said I was faking it. I wanted to go to the hospital, but she refused. I wish I could become the little toy poodle at Savannah's house.*

Two pages.

Mom read two pages, and her hands began to shake.

"Not wanting to be a human, but wanting to be a dog?" Her voice climbed, trembling with rage. "I think she's just tired of having a good life!"

*Thwack!*

The notebook hit the bed.

"What depression? She just loves comparing herself to others!"

Mom snatched the medicine bottles from Sarah's desk, twisted off the caps, and marched to the bathroom. One by one, she dumped every pill into the toilet bowl. Then she flushed.

I grabbed her arm. Desperate. "Mom! The doctor said if Sarah doesn't take that medicine, she might die!"

Mom didn't even blink.

"The doctor is just fear-mongering to make money. How old is your sister? How could she possibly die?" She scoffed. "This isn't an illness; it's entitlement. Things don't go her way, so she threatens me with suicide. It's all an act!"

She dragged me toward the door.

"Come on. We're going to the school gate to pick her up. I want to see this dog Savannah's mother is raising." Her grip tightened on my wrist. "I don't believe it—can a beast really live better than a person?"

Mom yanked me along like a kite caught in a gale. I had no choice but to stumble after her.

Sarah attended the city's most prestigious high school. When we arrived, the gate was swarming with parents.

Mom spotted Savannah Finch's mother immediately.

She was holding a small toy poodle.

Mom marched over. Her voice came out abrupt. Commanding. "My daughter really likes your dog. She even said she wants to *be* it. Sell the dog to me."

Savannah's mother blinked, taken aback. "This... I don't know..."