The Birthday Blowout
When I turned eighteen, my older brother
finally decided to throw me a birthday party.
During the photo op, he didn’t care that the cake had supports, he just shoved my head
right into it.
My foster sister flashed her sweetest smile,
while my left eye struggled to focus.
At the hospital while getting patched up, she
posted two pictures on her Insta story.
One was her acceptance letter from Stanford,
the other a selfie with my brother at
Disneyland.
The caption read:
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“Dream school, dream guy, all mine on this
special day!
“PS: My brother’s surprise was so funny!!”
Turns out, the “birthday party” was just a
prop for my brother’s surprise for her.
Instead of causing a scene like I would have
in the past, I just liked it and commented,
“Every day’s special now, because he’s all
yours.”
Then, I accepted my early admission to MIT.
1
“Claire! What was up with that comment on
Sarah’s post? She’s been throwing up
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“Don’t you know she just got her early
admission to Stanford? You ruined the best
day of her life! Get your ass back here and
apologize, or you’re not my sister anymore!”
He hung up before I could even say a word.
I couldn’t help but laugh humorlessly. So,
Sarah getting into Stanford is the best day of
her life, but my eighteenth birthday isn’t
worth celebrating?
Why… did I have to lose the use of an eye for
her to smile?
I brought my hand up to cover my left eye,
gritting my teeth to hold back the tears.
The doctor said crying wouldn’t help my eye
recover, but it was so frustrating.
r
Sarah was faking it, I was the one who got
hurt.
My head was bleeding after my brother
shoved it into the cake, but all he could do
was stare at Sarah’s sweet smile in the
pictures. Then he threw a careless glance my
way and said,
“Sarah wants to go to Disneyland. Wash your
face and order some takeout, Claire.”
Sarah was beaming, “Sorry, sis, but that was
hilarious!”
I’ll never understand how people can laugh
when others are suffering.
All I knew was that after the doctor told me I
might never see out of my left eye again, my
<
The doctor asked, “Your family, where are
they?”
I froze.
I didn’t seem to have a family anymore.
My mom and dad were both firefighters. They
both died saving Sarah in a blaze. They
pushed her into my brother’s arms before
they were lost
From then on, my brother treated Sarah like
she was a living medal of valor, a constant
reminder of our parents.
She’d had her respiratory tract and digestive
system burned in the fire, leaving her fragile.
When Sarah threw up blood when we fought, I
got warned not to mess with her anymore.
<
Sarah seemed to have found a method to her
madness. Every time I did something she
didn’t like, she’d spew blood.
I showed my brother the fake blood packets
found, but all I got was three days of being
grounded in my room.
He hated liars, he said.
That day, the one who craved her brother’s
affection, just shook her head at the doctor:
“I don’t have any family.”
I didn’t go home to apologize to Sarah.
Instead, I went to my saved bookmarks and
accepted the latest offer.
<
It was my early admission to MIT. I’d been
hesitant to take it before.
I was always scared of being better than
Sarah.
A few years ago, I accidentally got a higher
score than her and she was bedridden for
days, throwing up blood all over the place.
I got grounded in the attic for three days. I
was forced to write a ten–thousand word
apology, crying while I wrote it.
My brother didn’t unlock the door until I
swore I’d never try to outshine Sarah again.
He sighed, “She’s your sister, the kid your
parents died to save. You should give her a
chance to shine.”
<
I nodded through my tears.
And I did.
If Sarah got a 90, I’d never go for a 95.
Yet, my brother’s eyes would always be on
Sarah.
Sometimes, I wondered which one of us was
his actual sister.
But I was too afraid to ask.
I was terrified of being grounded again, of
being forced to write endless apologies.
Now, it didn’t matter anymore.
I didn’t want him.
く
After getting the early admission, school
wasn’t that important to me. I got a big
scholarship too.
I took the scholarship, asked for a leave from
school, and bought a train ticket to Boulder.
I had to leave that tiny world behind. I wanted
to see the bigger picture.
If I had no home, I’d just make the whole
world my home.
While I was exploring the Colorado.
mountains, my brother called:
“What’s up with the leave of absence? It’s
your fault to begin with! You should apologize
to your sister, it’s the least you could do!
<
“Claire, where did you learn such a rotten.
attitude? You act like running away after
being told off.
“Do you even know how good Sarah is? Did
you get early admission like her? You’re not
as good as her in anything. How can you get
a leave of absence and act like you’re sulking!
“You have three days to come back. If you
don’t, don’t even think about coming back
ever!”
He hung up, not giving me a chance to say
anything.
Soon after, I got a text that my bank card had
been frozen.
I smiled bitterly at that.
He hadn’t even asked if I was safe, he just
went right to cutting off my allowance…
Thank goodness the scholarship money went
onto another card.
I didn’t need the measly few hundred dollars
he gave me.
Three days later, I didn’t go back.
And my brother didn’t call either. Or text.
I didn’t even care. I flew north to Seattle.
I didn’t have any contact with my family for
almost two weeks.
I had almost forgotten about them until Sarah
called.
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“Claire… where are you? We’re back from
our trip, and our nanny said you haven’t been
home once. It’s my fault, just come back,
please…”
Her voice was so innocent, like she was really
worried about me.
But if she really cared, why was she laughing
at me like that?
My brother’s voice chimed in on the line,
“Alright, Claire, Sarah forgave you, you can
stop with your tantrum.”
I replied, “What did I do wrong to need her
forgiveness?”
He was silent for a moment.
く
Then he sighed, “I know you’re upset about
getting pushed in the cake, but Sarah getting
into Stanford is a big deal, practically the
most important day of her life.
“You’re her sister, you shouldn’t be so petty.
It’s time to move past it.
“I unblocked your bank card, come home.”
My phone buzzed, my brother sent a transfer
a thousand dollars.
Not even enough to buy a train ticket back.
I could never understand. He’d throw
thousands at Sarah but when it came to me,
he was so cheap.
