All of a sudden, I was the center of attention.
Everything they did was about me now.
They redecorated my room with new bedsheets and cleaned my doll. My room was spotless now.
The little dark room was no more as well. My parents put up a light in the room.
Everything I had wished for in my childhood had come true.
The little dark room was bright now.
Yvonne, on the other hand, started to become unstable.
She often stared at my photograph on the fireplace mantle hatefully.
I knew that she was losing her mind. She had always hated it when someone else stole the spotlight from her.
She began to fall off her wheelchair and get hurt on purpose. It was then that I realized that Yvonne was probably mentally ill too.
Finally, Yvonne lost her temper when Mom took out my old things again.
She swept everything onto the ground.
"Stop thinking about her, Mom," she begged, tugging on Mom's sleeve. Her tone was pleading, but her eyes were threatening.
She'd used this tactic a lot of tim
