Wake Up And Strands

There's this thing that my mom keeps repeating to me. "I love my children equally. I will always treat you and Brielle the same." It's true that I get everything my sister, Brielle Montgomery, has since we were children. If Brielle has a new backpack, I do too. If Brielle goes for piano lessons, I'll be given the opportunity to attend the same lessons. When I go home for the holidays, my mom digs out two beautiful shopping bags sporting luxury brand logos. With a smile on her face, she hands them to us. "I specifically went to the store to buy you nice coats. Both of you get a coat each. I'll have you know that coats with wool linings are worth thousands of dollars. I don't even have the heart to wear one of these coats. I only bought these coats for you two." As I gaze at the expensive-looking coat, I feel warmth surging into my heart. But when I try on the coat, I feel a weird, scratchy sensation coming from my armpits. After flipping the coat inside out, I notice a few strands of long, dry hair tightly entangled among the seams. I even smell a faint trace of mold mixed with a strong hint of rot that can't be covered up by the cheap fragrance on the coat.

The daughter of my father's first love suffered from heatstroke because she was left in the car, so he tied me up in a fit of anger and locked me in the car boot. He looked at me with utter disgust and said, "I don't have a vicious daughter like you. Stay here and reflect on yourself." I begged him, apologized to him, and pleaded for him to let me out, but all I got in return was his ruthless order. "Unless she dies, no one is allowed to let her out." The car was parked in the garage. No one could hear me no matter how much I screamed for help. Seven days later, he finally remembered me and decided to let me out. However, he had no idea that I had already died in that trunk and could never wake up again.

Pada hari ulang tahun cucuku, aku ditabrak mobil saat dalam perjalanan mengambil hadiahnya. Karena tidak terlalu parah, aku hanya pergi ke rumah sakit untuk membalut lukaku, lalu buru-buru pualng. Setibanya di rumah, ternyata acara ulang tahun telah berakhir. Sementara itu, aku harus membereskan kekacauan yang ada. Tidak ada yang peduli pada lenganku yang diperban. Yang ada di pikiran mereka hanya apakah baju sudah dicuci, apakah makanan sudah disiapkan? Karena tidak enak badan, aku tidak membuatkan sarapan. Putraku dan menantuku pun mengataiku malas. Aku pergi ke rumah sahabatku untuk menenangkan diri. Mereka malah bilang aku bersikap tidak masuk akal, padahal sudah tua. Kemudian, suamiku ingin bercerai denganku demi seorang pengasuh .... Cerai saja! Siapa juga yang mau mengerjakan pekerjaan rumah yang tak ada habisnya itu! Lagi pula, mereka tidak menyukaiku!

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