Glass Child

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W.C. - 6 k

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The middle child. Often known as the "forgotten" sibling, the one who never gets enough love, never enough attention, the one who's never enough.

Never the one to blow out their own candles on their birthdays, never the one to get driven to their evening practices even when it was rainy and muddy. Never the one to get told they're loved, nor that they're enough. Never the one to be the favourite.

Yet always the one to listen to their parents argue late into the night, always the one to be blamed, always the one pressured to do great academically. Always the one who has to prove and find their place in the family, yet never actually finding it.

One older brother and one younger sister, that was what you had, one sibling on either side of you for every family photo but never for anything more. Your brother was out of the house before you could turn 6 and your younger sister was what your parents liked to call a rainbow child.

She had nearly died at birth after all, not enough oxygen going to the brain leading to slight mental disabilities and getting all your parents love. You weren't even sure they had ever told you that they were proud of you. No, all their attention was always on Lila.

No matter how much you vyed for their attention, no matter how many accomplishments you had, the trophies and diplomas you brought home, their attention was always on Lila.

Lila, the golden child. Lila who could do no wrong. Lila who even after screaming and punching you, would get a hug and kiss on the head.

You, who were left to raise yourself. You, who were never enough for them, never good enough to be loved and cherished like your sister or even your brother who had left you. You, who had the weight of the world on your shoulders with no one to help carry it.

Every footballing tournament you'd ever had would be about Lila, what did Lila want? Was Lila comfortable? Does Lila want to go home?

Well that was when they actually made the effort to come, something you could count on one singular hand how many times they'd done. No, to sit through a few minutes of football for their daughter to feel needed and wanted was far too difficult for them.

Anything not involving Lila was far too difficult for them. Anything not revolving around herself was far too complex for Lila to comprehend, the second your parents looked away from her she was kicking and screaming and they were forced to look at her, whilst you were left unloved and unseen.

So when your brother started to visit once a month, you couldn't have been more excited. There would finally be someone to be there for you, someone that would look at you for once, appreciate your existence.

Well he started out like that. He'd come to your games and cheer you on, he'd take you out for ice cream after just the two of you. For the first time in your life you didn't feel invisible.

But then as time started to pass, he came home less and less, until the visits were so few and far between that he practically disappeared from your life. Gone were the days of feeling wanted and needed, you were back to being a ghost in your own life.

Even coaches started to forget you, it was like you just blended into the background, like you were invisible.

Then slowly, your teammates started to ignore you too, barely even looking at the shell of a person you were during exercises. And slowly you started to accept it, the role of the ghost.

You put your head down, working even harder in school and on the pitch, only this time it was for yourself and not for anyone else.

Slowly it got harder for your coaches and teammates to ignore your ever growing presence, but it was made easier for them when you ignored them back. It might've not been the best coping mechanism, but it was one nonetheless.

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