The Fairness I Never Got

In my family, fairness was practically a law. It all started with my older siblings, Xander and Kendra Hale. They were twins, and neither of them could bear the thought of the other getting even a little more. The smallest hint of favoritism was enough to start a fight. Because of that, everything had to be equal. If Xander got something, Kendra needed one too. If Kendra received anything, Xander expected the same. My parents followed that rule so strictly that almost everything in our house seemed to come in pairs—one for him, one for her. I learned early that I was never part of that equation. When I was still a child, I once looked at my mother and asked, "What about me?" She snapped before I could say anything more. "Your brother and sister already make things difficult enough. Can you please not add to it?" That was the last time I asked. Years passed, and I got used to being the one left out. Then my father bought a six-seater SUV. There were only five people in our family. For the first time, I looked at all that empty space and thought, maybe this time, there would finally be room for me. I should have known better. On the morning of our family road trip, rain poured from the sky as I stood beside the car with my bag clutched in one hand. Two empty seats should have been waiting for me. Instead, Kendra's cat was curled up comfortably in one, while Xander's dog had taken over the other. I stared at them through the open door. Xander noticed immediately and pulled his dog closer. Kendra barely looked at me before rolling her eyes. "We already agreed to keep things fair. You're not taking my cat's seat." For a moment, I just stood there. The rain soaked through my clothes until they clung to my skin. Cold water ran down my face and into my collar, yet nobody moved. Eventually, my father looked over with obvious annoyance. "Why are you still standing there? Don't you have something else to do?" My hands were already numb from the cold. I looked at all of them sitting comfortably inside the car, then smiled. "Actually, I do. I'm not going." I turned around and walked back into the house without another word. A few minutes later, I opened my laptop and submitted the study-abroad application I had been putting off for months. For twenty years, I had waited for my family to give me the same fairness they fought so hard to protect. That morning, I finally understood the truth: they had always made space for me, but there was never truly a place for me. Once I realized that, I stopped waiting for one.