Beautiful Brittanay

Chapter 1

At home, Mom and Dad think I'm a problem. It's not just because of my poor grades or my non existent social skills. Let's be honest: I have no charms, no bright personality, no friends, no perspective to become a better person. I'm just seconds away from sinking in mediocrity.

I'm so used to negative comments from them saying that I'll always be useless that I don't even try to make myself better, to show some charms, to improve my attitude. Nothing. I'm bound to be disliked not only by my spiteful family, but also by everyone else.

If I had a magic wand, I'd use it to turn myself into someone who actually deserves to be loved and respected. However, that's just impossible. Reality doesn't work like that. This means I have to suffer if I want to achieve at least one goal in my life.

Maybe I'm just meant to be a pleaser, someone who just lives to serve other people and make them happy. Regardless of what I do, I'll always be in Lizette's shadow. She's my older sister and, even though we avoid contact with each other as much as we can, she still finds some time to pick on me whenever she can.

My parents have a low opinion of hers, as much as mine, but, instead of suffering, she manages to be more stuck-up and arrogant. She projects every single failure on me, as if she can't afford to, or simply doesn't want to, be regarded as mediocre like me. She has to realize she's on the same boat as me and that trying to act superior won't clean her image.

I guess I keep making the same mistake. Every time I try to get rid of negativity, I just douse myself into self-destructive thoughts. When will I ever learn?

***

Mom and Dad are pissed now. They're throwing a fit at Liz because she has brought home a guy they don't approve of. Mom hisses. "He's just after your fucking money! Why can't you ever realize that, idiot? Are you going to let everyone play you for the rest of your life?"

Those words are indeed harsh. Even though I despise Liz from the bottom of my heart, I don't like that Mom depicts every single guy my sister brings home as a gold digger. As if she herself married Dad for love... She's only still after him for his insurance and I'm pretty sure she has a lover. She sneaks out of home too much to be simply "hanging out with friends."

My suspicions on Mom's infidelity leave room to Dad's snide comment on Liz's love life. "One day, you'll thank us when you finally understand that you have to keep your legs closed!" That's utterly disgusting, especially coming from someone whose main priorities are alcohol and sex.

For the first time since, like, my sister and I were kids, I find myself defending her. "Dad! What's the problem with you? Just because you have issues on Mom, don't take them out on Liz! And how can you know Kyle is after her for money?" I snort. "Everyone is a gold digger to you. I wouldn't be surprised if you thought the same of me."

Dad gives me a stern glare. "Don't talk to me like that, Brittanay. I didn't teach you to be like that." I avert his look and turn back, sighing. The only things he taught me so far in his life is that it's okay not to have any feelings or empathy, and that I shouldn't trust anybody. I, for instance, want him and Mom out of my life as soon as I can move away from this hellish place.

Fuck Dad. If it were for me, Liz could marry Kyle Puckett tomorrow and leave home immediately after, never to return. That means I'll take her room, and possibly stay out of my parents' hair as much as possible.

***

As punishment for raising my voice at Dad and standing by Liz against him, he and Mom left me nothing for dinner except boiled potatoes, stale bread and tinned sardines. I hate sardines, but I have no choice. Either I eat them, or starve. I gulp before taking the first mouthful of sardines and potatoes.

The fish are oily and taste bad as I expect, but at least the potatoes are quite good. The bread loaf is so hard that I douse it in oil from the tin and milk, and leave it there for nearly an hour.

Although the meal is terrible, I'm satisfied. After all, it isn't any worse than the shit Mom usually cooks. When Dad tells me I have to take care of the washing up, I can't be happier. I don't show it, but, in my mind, I'm jumping up and down.

As I'm done washing the dishes, I bolt back to my room, only for Liz to follow me. Expecting yet another reprimand, I gasp as she shuts the door behind her in a rush and sits on the bed. Her face is beet red, but her hands are literally white.

She says in a ragged voice. "Britt... You shouldn't have done what you did. You're in trouble. Worse, we are in trouble."

I dismiss her. "Liz, stop it. Dad had no right to talk to you like that. I'm sure you love Kyle. If he can't see that, it's his problem. Maybe he should start looking himself in a fucking mirror." I grit my teeth, fearing that Mom or Dad are listening to us. That could get Liz kicked out, or me punished even more harshly.

My sister sighs. "Britt, you and I don't really... like each other. Seriously, you could've left me fending for myself and I wouldn't mind. So, why did you defend me?" She lowers her head. I believe she'll burst in tears within the next five minutes. She isn't the kind of person that shows her feelings, so I'm shocked that she does now.

"Liz, let me tell you honestly. You're better off with your boyfriend than here," I point out. "Mom and Dad have always put you in front of me when it comes to giving attention. But the way they give it to you is toxic, do you realize?"

She shakes her head. Being the eldest child, she has been so used to being spoiled to the point that she has been taken for granted all the time. Neither Mom nor Dad have made any effort whatsoever to build a healthy relationship with her, let even with me.

Liz suddenly begins crying, which proves me right. She's broken inside. She needs healing. If Kyle is the one that tend to the wounds of her heart, then so be it. She doesn't need for approval to be happy. The same goes for me; the problem is, I'm not legally an adult yet, so I have to endure the pain at least a little longer.

But, how longer can I bear it? What are the signs that clearly say I can't take it anymore? Am I really pushing beyond my own limits? Is there a way for me to find the light after the tunnel?

I have too many questions, but not a single answer for any of them. I don't know if I'll ever be able to find them. What I'm sure about is that tomorrow is going to be another painful day as usual.