Okay, not a topic you’ll like for Valentine’s Day but it still has love in it! To summarise the story, it’s about a sister that hates her younger sister for some reason (you’ll find it out later). Now, it might be a bit weird to read it because I’m not used to touchy stories and that kind of things but try to see the message here, people – family love is lovely! Well, enjoy!
I remembered the day my parents brought home Lilly. She was so small, nothing but a fragile doll, a soft pink bundle of blanket in Mum’s arms. She wailed and gurgled and laughed a lot– she was an innocent little being my parents loved dearly, so much that they would be there for her night and day, give her expensive gifts that children could only have on Christmas and dress her up beautifully. Lilly was a bright girl, an eager learner, easy to get along with and would always look at me with stars in her eyes, following me like an excited puppy. From the moment she was born, our parents loved Lilly. From the moment I set eyes on her, I hated her.
I was in the middle of finishing off my presentation when Lilly knocked on my door. “Dinner’s ready, Molly,” she said.
“Just a second,” I replied, “I’m nearly finished.”
Lilly wandered over to my side and peeked over my shoulder to look at my laptop. “What are you working on?”
I answered as I typed in facts onto a textbox in a purple slide, “A presentation for tomorrow. I’m supposed to do it in pairs but Gabby said she’s going to be absent tomorrow, so she sent me the PowerPoint to finish. This’ll be my chance to make up for my bad test results.”
Lilly hummed as she regarded the slide with keen eyes. “Need any help?” she offered.
Oh, no. I don’t need any more of her patronising. I stood up abruptly and breezed out the door, calling out behind me, “Nope, none. Don’t even touch it.”
Truthfully, I didn’t feel like eating dinner with my parents; I’ve stopped doing that since Year Six after a memorable big fallout between us. However I’ve walked out off my room with my nose in the air and it’d be awkward if I were to come in again (especially with Lilly still inside), and so I’ve decided to just grab something to eat.
Lilly was behind me not long after and both of us arrived at the dining room. Mum was seated nearest to the door while Dad sat in front of her where he could see what’s happening outside from the staircase until the wall dividing the hall and the living room. Mum’s eyes were a mix of amusement and relief while Dad’s stare was that of curiosity. Lilly went over to sit next to Mum while I went to the cabinet to take a bowl and then a spoon from the drawer by the sink. I sat down between Lilly and Dad – it felt like the whole room was closing in on me.
Mum cleared her throat and started a conversation, “So, Molly, what were you doing up in your room just now?”
“Hmm? Oh, just finishing a presentation,” I said whilst taking some mashed potatoes and a salmon; I took as little as possible so that I could finish early and go back to my sanctuary.
“What’s the presentation about?” Mum asked.
“Why Louis the sixteenth was a horrible king,” I answered.
“Oh, I know that!” Lilly chimed in, “I read it in Wikipedia last night – his wife, Marie Antoinette, was a very fancy person and –”
“We know – you told us yesterday,” I interrupted, rolling my eyes. Lilly fell silent immediately, chewing her salmon in embarrassment. It was Mum that continued the talking.
“Now, now, Molly, you don’t need to be so harsh on your sister!” she said, “She was just very excited about the topic, that’s all.”
“But she keeps on saying it over and over again and it’s just really annoying!” I moaned.
“Molly, don’t talk about your sister like that,” Dad ordered sternly. I fell silent immediately. No one can object Dad’s words. “Speaking of which, I heard you’re going to do a presentation for the scholarship competition, Lilly,” Dad said to Lilly with fondness in his voice. Only for Lilly.
“Ah, yeah. It was by luck that I got in, really…” Lilly giggled.
“That’s not true, Lilly. You’re brilliant, a genius! You make me proud,” Dad smiled proudly at Lilly, until he turned to me with a scolding glare, “And you should take your sister as an example, Molly. Your grades have dropped a lot ever since you started high school –”
“They’re just ‘C’s, Dad. At least I passed the year,” I countered.
“Well, ‘C’s are not enough. You used to get ‘A’s and ‘B’s, and then you met those delinquents and your life had started going downhill,” Dad pointed out harshly.
I seethed, “They’re not delinquents, Dad. They’re cool.”
“That’s what you always say but the reality? They skip classes and they barely passed the year! Why do you associate yourself with those people, anyway?”
I couldn’t answer that. My friends were the ones who would comfort me when I feel like trash; they were the closest people I had and the most supportive. My father wouldn’t understand. I stood up, having finished my dinner, and dumped my dishes in the sink before rushing upstairs. I heard my father call out to me to wash my own dishes, but his voice was muffled as soon as I closed the door. I’ve always hated family dinners.
I spent the rest of the evening working on my presentation with the music on full blast. Before I knew it, Lilly was beside me with a glass of warm milk, a warm smile on her face that told me to cheer up. I’ve always hated that. “You didn’t answer the door so I took the liberty of letting myself in,” she called over the music, “Have some warm milk – it’ll loosen you up!”
I shook my head and shooed her away with a flick of my wrist, but she insisted. Lilly went to place the milk next to my laptop –
She lost her grip and the glass went tumbling over the keyboard, soaking it completely. The next thing I knew was that there was smoke rising from my laptop and the screen flickered to black.
Did she just…?
I hit the power button but my laptop made no move to wake up. Next, I went to the bathroom to fetch a towel to wipe the milk off and tried the power button again. Nothing. That was it – all of my works were gone. All because of a glass of milk. All because of Lilly.
Lilly just stood there, horrified, stuttering apologies and on the brink of tears. I grabbed her wrist and yanked her outside, not without a warning. “If you ever – ever – go in here again, I will make your life a living hell, just like what you did to me,” I hissed with a painful lump at the back of my throat. My vision was turning blurry but I ignored it. “I hate you. I hate you – I’ve always had and will for the rest of my life. Now get out of my sight!” Just like that, I slammed the door in her face.
The next day I found myself sitting confidently in my seat, arms folded across my chest and leaning back against the chair to stare at the clock instead of volunteering for the presentation. I decided to just give up – that was my chance to prove my father that I was not incompetent of getting good grades, and Lilly – stupid Lilly – just came along happily and killed my only hope.
The teacher glanced at my direction and clicked his tongue. “Molly, would you please get ready for the lesson and get your things out?” he said crossly.
I merely huffed and bent over to reach inside my bag to pull out my books –
Something hard and metallic bumped my fingers. That’s odd; I’m pretty sure I left my laptop in my room. Oh, well, I’ll just take it out to look as if I’m getting ready for my presentation. I took the laptop out and lifted the screen. It was clean smelt like lemons, and there were no traces of stains anywhere. When I turned it on, it immediately went to the “Welcome” screen and showed me a desktop with a blank blue background. This was not my laptop.
The only thing on the desktop beside the recycling bin was a PowerPoint file titled “Why Louis XIII was a Horrible King”. I clicked it open and found myself looking at the exact same PowerPoint I was working on last night; the layout, the colour scheme, the font style and sizes, and the pictures used. The information, however, was more detailed and professional.
The lesson went on with my head in the clouds but I do remember the teacher praising me with my excellent presentation and gave me an “A”. As soon as the bell rang I ran straight to the theatre, where I was sure Lilly would be. And sure enough I found her there, alone, sitting amongst an empty sea of chairs. I walked over to her and took the chair to her right.
“You gave me your laptop,” I said absentmindedly, “It was your chance to get a scholarship thing, the one you’ve always wanted. Why waste that chance for something stupid, like allowing me to get an ‘A’?”
Lilly just laughed silently and said, “Because it was my fault, and I felt bad about running your chances of proving yourself capable to Dad. I was horrible – I’m sorry.”
No, you’re not. You are wonderful, the best sister I could ever have. But that’s why I hate you. You’re kind – much too kind – and I don’t deserve to be your sister. I’m the horrible one because I kept pushing you away from me with harsh words and actions, but you just keep on coming back to me, smiling. You have a great future ahead of you and you should use every opportunities present. Don’t walk down my path. Don’t stray from the light. Don’t be like me. You’re a wonderful person, Lilly, and I hate you for that.