Died in the Coffin My Parents Prepared for Me

The day my Stanford acceptance letter arrived.

My sister said she couldn't handle it anymore, left a note, and jumped off a bridge.

My parents were inconsolable.

They not only tore up my acceptance letter but also fell for some charlatan's spiel and locked me in a coffin for a week to "cleanse" the spirit.

All so they could hopefully see her again on the seventh day.

I was in agony, crying and screaming until my nails were torn and bloody, and all they could say was, "You owe her this".

Eventually, I died in that coffin from suffocation.

A week later, my sister waltzed back as if nothing happened.

Meanwhile, my parents had completely lost it.

***

"Smack!" The slap left half my face numb.

My ears were ringing; I could barely hear.

Dad was livid like he could eat me alive.

"Why did I raise a daughter so vain like you? You had to show off in front of your sister, or your ego would kill you?"

"Your sister jumped in the river, and you're happy? Is this what you wanted?"

Mom, clutching the suicide note, broke down.

Everything about this note screamed of how I overshadowed her, showed off, put her down, mocked her, and made her feel small. She couldn't take it anymore, she just couldn't stand the world I made for her.

I was baffled—where was all this "pressure" even coming from?

At home, Emily was the golden child; whatever she said, our parents swallowed whole, striving to give her the world.

And there I was, stuck with her hand-me-downs.

Despite there being two spare bedrooms, she claimed one and turned the other into a dressing room.

It left me banished to the musty old storage room downstairs, sweltering in summer and freezing in winter.

Mom always said it was because, as the elder, I had hogged the nutrients in the womb, which left Emily weak and sickly at birth.

So I bit my tongue and never complained—even though it hurt, I always stepped aside for Emily.

But why was my hard-earned spot at Stanford suddenly a problem just because Emily flunked her exams?

Watching Dad rip my acceptance letter to shreds and throw it away like trash tore a hole in my heart.

I bent down to pick up the pieces.

Suddenly, Mom went off the deep end, yanking me around. "You've been nothing but trouble, a jinx, hogging everything since the womb, always bullying her."

"Why couldn't it have been you?! Give me back my Emily!"

Pushed to the ground, tears blurred my vision. "Mom, am I not your daughter too?"

Her eyes, fiery and filled with scorn, looked at me as if I were the plague. "No, you are not. My daughter is Emily, you're just a disaster. I wish I'd strangled you at birth before you had the chance to ruin her. Oh, my poor Emily..."

She was gasping for air between sobs, her eyes ablaze with utter loathing.

Dad approached, discarding the shredded paper. "Sarah, you're a murderer. It's your fault Emily's gone. How can you even think of college? You should be buried in the trash, that's the only way to atone."