Is 'Kettle Is Calling The Pot Black' An Idiom?

Parents like to say every child is a part of them. In our house, I was but a splinter under the skin. Mom and Dad were a blended couple. They could not bring themselves to truly punish my stepbrother and stepsister, so they had me and turned me into their cautionary example. When my brother came last in his class, Dad locked me in a dog crate under the blazing sun to teach him what happened to people who refused to study. When my sister started dating too young, Mom drugged me and dumped me in a homeless encampment to show her what could happen if she was not careful. Then one day, Dad found a takeout receipt in the trash. He forced poisoned food into my mouth and made me swallow. "Today, I am going to teach you all a real lesson. This is what happens when you eat whatever you want behind our backs." Even as I coughed blood and writhed on the floor, Dad threw me into the punishment room. My brother and sister rushed to confess and begged Mom to let me out. But Mom only said coldly, "You two will learn this lesson properly today. When you have learned it, I will let him out." I sat on the floor as blood soaked through my shirt. As my consciousness faded, I finally understood. Dad, your last cautionary lesson had to be taught with my life.

As I was about to leave my brother’s restaurant, the female manager stopped me. "Miss, excuse me, but you haven’t paid your bill." I looked at the unfamiliar face and thought that she was probably new and didn’t recognize me, so I explained politely, "Just put it on the owner’s tab. He knows me." The manager shot me a disdainful look. "Miss, this is a Michelin three-star restaurant. We don’t let just anyone run up a tab." She handed me a printed bill. I glanced at it. Fifty thousand dollars for one meal. Three thousand for tableware maintenance, five thousand for exclusive air purification, ten thousand for a VIP mood-calming service fee, and a bunch of other ridiculous charges. I didn’t even know my brother’s place was such a scam. I couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief. "I’m the owner’s sister. If there’s a problem, tell him to talk to me at home." But she just wouldn’t drop it. "If you can’t afford it, stop acting like you can. And don’t act like you know Mr. White, either." I fired off a quick text to my secretary. 【Tell my brother to either fire this manager or I’m pulling my investment.】

When my cousin, Rita Pike, brings her boyfriend, Benny Booker, home to meet her parents, I get labelled as a freeloader for some reason. As soon as Benny steps through the front door, he shoots me a disdainful glance. "You're the cousin who refuses to move out of my girlfriend's villa, right?" I just stare at him in confusion. Yes, I do live in this villa. But my parents have left this property to me as a part of my assets. My name is the one printed on the property deed. Heck, I'm the one who told my butler to give Rita a room to stay here! Why is it that I'm painted as the poor relative who refuses to move out now that she's dating another man?

My husband's first love was scalded by boiling water. To punish me, he forced me into a customized steamer half my height, turned the heat to its highest setting, and sealed me inside. "I'll make you feel the pain Jessica suffered a thousand times over!" Trapped in the suffocating space, my breath came in ragged gasps. Heat seared my skin, and my body felt as though it would melt. I sobbed, begging him for mercy. "Please! I'm going to die!" But he didn't look back. Holding his beloved in his arms, he walked away. He even locked the door after he left the room. "Don't worry, you won't die. This is the only way you'll understand Jessica's pain." Despair swallowed me whole. I screamed, my voice raw, but the boiling water beneath me splashed up, scalding my skin, stealing even the strength to cry. He left the country with Jessica that same night. A week passed before he finally remembered my existence. "That wretched woman must have learned her lesson by now. Let her out." What he didn't know was that the water had long since boiled away, the heat had faded, and inside the steamer, my corpse lay rotting—swarmed with maggots.

In the backyard of my home, there is a dark red jar that is about half a person's height. It is half buried in the ground, and my whole family forbids me from going near it. But I hear someone inside the jar calling me over and over. That voice says, "Sis, I miss you so much."

My sister-in-law, Esmerelda Black, hates that her mother, Ruth Jennings, favors me. To make things worse, she has the ability to hear Ruth's thoughts. And she uses that gift against me. When I tell Ruth to have more vegetables to stay healthy, Esmerelda says, "Clara is such a cheapskate not to buy you meat. She doesn't ask her own mom to eat more vegetables." When I encourage Ruth to exercise more to build strength, she says, "Mom, you're already old. You should be taking it easy. Clara wants you to work yourself to death." Slowly, Ruth grows to hate me. In the end, Esmerelda acquires the family business, seizes the fortune, and trafficks me to North Maldia to die. However, when I open my eyes again, I have her gift too—I can also hear Ruth's thoughts.