Don't Look For Me

After my sister finished cutting the cake on her 18th birthday, she pouted and suggested we play hide-and-seek. Just before the blindfold went on, I saw her exchange a look with our parents. I did not think much of it. Not until I finished counting to one hundred, pulled off the blindfold, and found the entire villa empty. I called my parents again and again. Every call was cut off, so I opened social media. One minute earlier, my sister had posted a photo. In the photo, she and our parents were wearing sunglasses, lounging on beach chairs in Chesroy Isles. The caption read, 'Escaping the heat abroad with family. How nice!' I did not even need to check to know what my mother had commented. 'Don't tease her like that next time. She's already pitiful enough being ugly.' Except there would always be a next time. And every time would be worse than the last. I stared at the ocean in the photo. Then, all at once, I felt there was no need to feel wronged anymore. I turned off my phone and picked up my suitcase. There were three hours left before my flight overseas—before I cut ties with them for good. From now on, the three of them could enjoy themselves without me.