My Brother's Scapegoat

The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was a surprisingly lively scene at home.

A large number of guests gathered in the living room, chatting and laughing, celebrating my brother, Ian Green's miraculous escape from danger. Everyone tacitly chose to forget about me, the one who went to jail in his place.

My mother was all smiles. "Good things come to those who deserve them. Ian has done so many good deeds; it's only right that he survived this disaster."

This sentence made me, who had become a spiritual being, somewhat lost in thought.

Was he kind? He hit and ran, robbed a pregnant woman, and was even crazy enough to poison the food of a lonely elderly person. He was a devil who did all these things for fun, yet my mother called him kind.

When I thought about how his current success and glory had been built on my sacrifice, I got so angry that I trembled all over and wished I could rush over and strangle him.

Ian refused everyone's flattery, but he was grinning from ear to ear. "It's nothing. I just help others within my ability and never ask for anything in return."

My cousin, who was having cake, looked around the room and did not see me. He was puzzled. "Where's Mason Green? Why isn't he home today? I was hoping to ask him for help with my studies."

The previously peaceful atmosphere turned somber at the mention of my name.

My mother slammed her cup on the table and scoffed. "Why bring up that jinx? If it weren't for his instigation, Ian wouldn't have suffered this. He didn't even bother to call and check on Ian. He just can't stand seeing peace in this family. Why am I so unlucky? I gave birth to a monster."

Seemingly recalling my behavior at home over the years, my mother's eyes reddened, and she hugged Ian and started wailing.

Anyone who did not know better would think I was some kind of tyrannical bully at home.

This was their usual act: belittling and suppressing me in front of outsiders.

We had good times in the beginning. My mother treated us both equally; there was no favoritism.

Unfortunately, the happy days did not last long. While visiting one woman, my mother stole her treasured pearl necklace while she went to the bathroom. She even bragged about it to us. "She deliberately flaunted that necklace in front of me just to humiliate me. Let's see how she shows off now."

When the woman returned and could not find the necklace, she burst into tears; it was the only keepsake her deceased mother had left her.

Ian pretended not to know and lied along with our mother.

Ultimately, I could not bear it anymore and told the woman the truth.

When we got home, my mother locked me in a small room and beat me all night.

From then on, my status in the family was lower than even a dog's.

Ian sighed insincerely. "Mom, don't say that. Mason is probably just too busy. There are many things I haven't done well either, so it's understandable that Mason dislikes me..."

Ian's remark did not quell my mother's anger; instead, it made her even more agitated. "You're just too kind. He doesn't consider us his family. He even called and lied to me that he was going to be executed by shooting. He was even unwilling to serve a few years in jail. What's the point of raising him?"

She grew more agitated as she spoke, but I grew increasingly desperate.

Touching the bullet hole in my forehead, I almost vomited.

When I called my mother in my final moments, all I got was, "Just die. You're useless alive, you fool."

'Mom, I did as you wished; I really died. Are you satisfied now?' I pondered.