What's So Special About Them?

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
My Entry for the 7 Deadly Sins Contest
Link to Seven Deadly Sins Contest => https://www.booksie.com/posting/anarchyblues/seven-deadly-sins-contest-461260

Submitted: March 12, 2016

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Submitted: March 12, 2016

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(IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE!!!!!)
(Italics => When a sentence is written in italics, that means that the sentence is a thought.)

 

What's So Special About Them?

My Entry for the Seven Deadly Sins Contest

I sit here, on the sofa, watching my mother praise my younger brother and my younger sister on their "splendid" report cards for school. A halfway crumbled up paper is clenched in my right hand, which is my report card. I impatiently tap my converse-covered foot loudly on the hardwood floor of the living room. My mother finally turns around, to face me. With a fake smile on her face, she reaches out for my report card of this semester. She already knows my grade, considering the fact that she checks my grades electronically every day. I smile falsely at her, thrusting my report card into her hand. She raises it up to her face, to examine the paper. I start to exit the room, hoping to manage to snag an after school snack. My mother automatically snaps her head up to look at me, and motions for me to come over to her. I inwardly groan, my mind already thinking of the punishments I might receive. My mother kindly asks my little siblings to exit the room, but not until after she gives them each a hug and promises to get them ice cream as a reward.

Once my siblings exit the room, my mother sits down on the sofa, patting the seat beside her for me to sit down. I slowly sit down beside her, distancing myself from her. My mother scans my report card with her eyes. 

She turns to me, with an obvious look of disappointment on her face. "Why, Minah?" She inquires. I just look down at my converse sneakers. "Minah." My mother says, sternly. "Yeah, mom?" I reply. "First of all, it is not 'yeah.' It is 'yes.' Second. Why are your grades so low?" My mother asks me. I just keep my gaze directed towards my feet. My mother shakes her head, tsking. "Why, Minah? Why can't you be more like your younger brother and sister?" My mother asks of me. My eyes blaze with anger. I shoot my head up, to look her in the eye. "Because maybe I am NOT them. I am MYSELF. I am NOT perfect." I state angrily. "Attitude, Minah. Go to your room. I'll call you down, when you're better behaved." My mother states carelessly, pointing upstairs. I resist the urge to scream at my mother, instead I stomp up the stairs. I throw myself onto my bed, just laying there for a moment. In a rush, my emotions come flying at me. 

Spite. Wrath. Irritation. Disappointment. Sadness. But most of all, envy. 

Why must I always be compared to them? To my siblings? They're younger than me, yet they have more privileges than me?

Why...?

Why does mom love them more than me? 

I reach for my stuffed plushie, Batman Domo, and bury my face into the plushie. Crying silently. 

I hate them. I despise them. I envy them...


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