All Things That Fall

05: tears

"You are," I say more to myself before they can finish that excuse, "You're getting rid of me, aren't you?"

"Look, sweetie," my mum sighs, her eyes boring into mine, "You're way too quiet and you don't make any attempt at being social at all. You're practically alone all the time, so wouldn't you want to live on your own?"

"Really?" I scoff, my voice going even lower, "that's the reason?"

"Ophelia," my father says, his voice serious, "We're only doing the best for you. We've done everything we can for you for the last eighteen years- and technically- we're no longer responsible for your wellbeing-"

"So you're responsible for Claud's wellbeing, but not mine?" I ask before I can help it, with another bitter scoff, "How lovely."

"Ophelia," my mum's voice turns stern, "we're being very generous here. We're even giving you money for the next few months. Being jealous of your brother will get you nowhere. Any more backtalk, and you'll be leaving the day after your birthday."

Seriously? My eyes begin to sting as I look around at all of them.

It wasn't like my parents couldn't afford to let me stay with them either.

They could afford Claud mooching off of them and blowing off thousands of dollars every month. They could afford to pay for his college, for his car, his phone bills and everything that belonged to him. They could afford to pay people to get him out of trouble and they could afford to bribe people to make sure his grades were good and his record was clean.

They didn't spend a penny more than what was required for me, and I never once complained because I was perfectly content with what I had.

But they wouldn't even let me stay?

I turn to my mother, as my lip wobbles and my eyes blur with tears. Her gaze doesn't soften like I hoped it would.

"Don't cry, for heaven's sake," she let out an irritated sigh, closing her eyes, "I didn't raise you to be unspoken and a crybaby- stop that at once."

You hardly raised me at all.

I shake my head, pressing my lips together and looking up at the ceiling to blink back tears.

"Ophelia," this time, it's my father who speaks- and even his tone is tinged with annoyance, "You need to know these things. Your mother and I didn't.... plan to have you- but when we did, we made sure to provide for you. We did our job- but we aren't obligated to do more than we've done."

Only for a moment, I find myself shocked at that confession.

Your mother and I didn't plan to have you.

I knew what those words really meant. Because that was the nice way of saying it, wasn't it?

I was an accident.

No wonder they prefer him. I can feel a tear trickle down my cheek despite trying not to cry.

They had always done the bare minimum for me, while they spoiled him rotten. But I never, ever thought they'd go this far. The confession along with the whole thing of asking me to move out hurts. It hurts so bad.

I should have seen this coming. I didn't think anything would ever hurt this much. Why did it hurt so much?

Claud, however, can't hold back his laugh.

"An accident and a mute? Man, this is getting good-"

"Shut up, Claud," I say quietly through gritted teeth, "For once in your life, just shut the hell up-"