Mom’s Bias: She Chose My Sister Over Me

Bound Soul

My mother's face fell. "She doesn't need that chance. I bet going abroad is just going to turn her already dark heart darker."

Leila said sweetly, "Please, Mom, it's alright. I know she did this for a reason."

My mother looked at her gently. "You're a sweet girl. That little witch took advantage of you."

Leila had the knack of saying what my parents wanted to hear the most. Even if I were to come back to life and tell my parents about all the evil things Leila did, they would only slap me in return and call me a lying witch who was jealous of my sister.

Well, I was used to the treatment, anyway.

Then, my brother, Harold Greenhorn, came storming into the room and checked on Leila. The moment he was hit with the news, he booked the next flight back home and didn't stop until he got here.

Like our parents, Leila was the only one he cared about. He eventually confirmed that Leila was fine, and he heaved a sigh of relief. Then, his face took on a mask of fury.

"I told you Sheila's a curse on our family. She's been attacking Leila ever since she was born!"

Leila, in a cloying voice, pleaded, "It's alright, Harold. I know she didn't hurt me on purpose."

The family was livid. My father slammed the table. "How dare she hurt you?"

My mother gnashed her teeth. "That little bastard! I'll kill her!"

There was venom in Harold's eyes. I swore he would have ripped me to pieces if he could.

Leila's heart skipped a beat. She was worried they might see through her act if she went overboard. Quickly, she added, "Please don't get mad at Sheila. Maybe I was imagining things. She is still my sister. She would never have hurt me."

Harold poked her forehead lovingly. "This is why you're hurt. You trust people too easily."

"Oh, I'm so lucky I have you as my daughter. Fine, alright. We'll leave her to fate. You just need to rest up," my mother said.

The soft rays of the setting sun shone into the room, showering Leila's bed with the evening's warmth. I watched the family—my family—share a tender moment together, yet all I could taste was bitterness.

My soul didn't belong here. I was not a part of this family, perhaps. They saw me as nothing more than a stray. I wanted to run, to escape, yet my soul was bound to my mother's vicinity. I couldn't speak or even defend myself against their insults.