Pregnant And Rejected By My Twin Sister's Fiancé

*Matilda*

My legs staggered as I moved to find my room on the first floor of this mansion. Soft music from the garden outside filled my ears; I knew what today was all about. It was my twin sister’s and my birthday. But while my whole family favoured her, they shadowed me in this house.

The guests were all about Maya—her achievements, the fact that she was more intelligent than I was. Every young woman wanted to make friends with her. She was the star, and I was the cloud, the empty darkness that filled the sky.

“I regretted having you as my daughter. Just don’t show yourself and ruin your sister’s day.” My mother’s resentful words from earlier today hit me hard like a slap. I continued to drown myself in more and more alcoholic drinks, seated alone at a distance. The maids moved past me as they went to serve the guests.

I watched with teary eyes as the arriving guests all brought beautiful gifts for Maya. She stood there poised in a beautiful silver gown that swept her feet, with beautiful flowing edges. I, on the other hand, sat alone, dressed in a simple straight dress. My father didn’t care what I wore. Neither did he care to wish me a happy birthday.

My mother stood proudly beside my sister. Her smile spread across her face, and her make-up shone from afar.

My older brother, Calvin, was the proudest. His friends praised him and congratulated him for having a worthy sister. No one asked about me. No one remembered it was my birthday.

They partied, celebrated, and my parents even allowed Maya to bring her fiancé over. After all, it was her birthday.

I staggered to my feet, tired of watching them. The soft music faded. The happy cheers and wishes echoed behind me as the night fell.

Of what use was I to my family? I tried. I tried to achieve a little of what my sister did. But my brains aren’t built for that.

Despite being a 24-year-old woman, I merely passed high school. I tried countless times to sit for the admission exam into the university. But I failed.

I remember trying the previous year, before I tore up the paper and gave up hope of writing any exams again.

Maya has already graduated as a renowned marketing expert, and I was here, juggling from one tutorial centre to another. When I knew I would fail the exam, I couldn’t process the stuff written. Even though I’m given an expo, I just cannot seem to know what to write.

My hands shake holding the pen. I am slow, clumsy, like my mother would say. They gave up hope on me after I failed the fifth examination and wasted five years after high school trying one last time.

The memory stung, as I was slow. My sister was ahead of me. She was smart; she radiated beauty. But I know that despite my lack of academics, I was good at other things, like designing. I love the craft of bead-making, doing crochet wears, and also, I love jewels. But my mother never let me own any of them.

“In the history of the Roland Family, no one—I repeat, no one—is as useless and lazy as you. How do you sit here knitting in my home? Do you think you can make a living with these?” She picked up a beautiful crochet top that I made and glared at the yellow top with venom.

“Lora!” my mother yelled. A few minutes later, Lora, a middle-aged maid, barged into my room on the first floor. I was subjected to using the maid’s room.

“Burn this trash. Don’t let me see any crochet or wool in this house. I don’t want to see any of them. Unless you consider yourself fired. We the Rolands pride ourselves in working in office settings and sitting at a million-dollar empire. Not this useless stuff.” My mother stated, her tone cold and detached as she glared at me.

“Let me make it clear to you, Matilda. As much as I dislike the fact that I’m your birth mother, you had better focus on your tutorials until you pass your grades. Else, you will die an old maid in this house.” Her eyes glared at me with hatred before she stepped away from my room and shut the door hard. The sound rattled the walls in the room.

I sat on the floor crying and wailing, tears streaming down my cheeks.

As I staggered back to find my room, losing my balance, I stumbled and collapsed on the stairs at the backyard of the mansion.

My parents had warned me earlier to avoid the front stairs. “Keep away from that frontier. We don’t want the guests asking questions about your achievements. To avoid embarrassing yourself.” My mother had arrived at my room earlier today to warn me. She didn’t wish me a happy birthday. She stared at me with hatred, her large blue eyes like mine filled with hostility. She hated that I resembled her—that Maya and I are identical twins. But while my sister was sharper and acted faster, I was slower and not the daughter my family wanted.

I collapsed on the stairs and heard the maids discussing me from a distance.