Jealousy Takes One Far

Prologue

They were laughing. Happy, yes, they were happy. Happy for him, because apparently he'd done what they've always hoped for him to do. Yeah, I know, he got a real cool degree and stuff, and then suddenly I was in the shadow again, like I didn't even exist. Is this what every second-born kid feel? I should start a club on Facebook about "Parents Favoring Their Eldest" and see how famous it would be. Probably really famous. My parents can't be the only rotten sexist couple in the world, after all.

Well, we were Asians. Asians like their eldest and their boys. I'm a girl. I'm second. I'm trash. I should've known that long ago. But that was so unfair. This is America. Why can't I be treated with the same respect as my brother? Why must my parents always, always treat me like a maid and him like a prince? It's Kathy, get the conditioner going, Kathy, start dinner, Kathy, fetch your brother, Kathy, do your homework and Kathy, get us some tea all the time. Where is Kathy, you've done great! or Kathy, good job, or just well done, Kathy? Where?

Oh, of course, all the flamboyant praises were wasted on my pig-headed big brother. He's just got out of college. Now he's going to have a life and Mom and Dad will spend the rest of their miserable lives telling me to "look up to that guy who is the embodiment of success, Kathy!"

Repulsive.

Mom's coming up. She's gonna tell me to stop writing whatever nonsense down and start getting a life soon. Yeah, that's exactly what she would do. And what did she tell dear Ren? "Let your imagination guide you, honey". Fair. Real fair.

"Kathy, we're going out to eat," Mom said cheerily. Then her voice switched to the disapproving tone when she saw me typing away on my computer. "Daughter, you know I don't like it when you –"

"Try to be an author when I so obviously severely lacking in skills," I finished the sentence for her glumly. "Yes, Mother, I know. But I am fourteen, and I have free time, and I have ninety-nine in my progress report. Can you not give me a bit of freedom?" I pressed the word mother as much as I dared to.

The floorboard cricked as she shifted. "Well, of course…But I want you to follow the teacher's career –"

"This is about me, not you," I interrupted her again, cringing as soon as it got out. Oh, great. Rule number one in Vietnamese traditions: never disrespect your parents in any way. They are gods. They have every right to hit you as they have every right to kill you – which was a lot. And interrupting them is always a very bad idea. Not to mention I've just said something very disrespectful.

"Mom," another voice said carefully. I closed my eyes, refusing to turn my chair around. Oh, here comes my bane. "Mom, let it go. Dad's waiting. Can you wear that silver dress for me? I think you look fantastic in it." My blood boiled. Womanizer. Sweet-talker. Moron. Fu-

"You will break some hearts very soon, young man!" Mom giggled. Her footsteps faded as they walked down the hall. "Dress up nice, Ren!"

"I will, Mom," he answered smoothly. My fists clenched as I felt myself began to shake. So this is hatred, eh? This…this irritating, itchy feeling inside me. It might have been annoyance, but annoyance could never be this intense. I bit down on my lower lip and closed my eyes even tighter. This wouldn't be a good time to lose control.

Of course, the moron paid no heed. "Our parents' kinda uptight, huh?" he said, and I could imagine him running his hand through his hair as he shifted from foot to foot. Just who are you trying to fool, dear brother? Do you think that I will fall for something like that. "But at least Mom's better than Dad. Did you remember that day some years ago –?"

"Get out," I grounded out, trying to just imagine my hands wrapping around his throat and squeeze and not actually doing it.

He shut up instantly. Good. Keep that mouth of your shut, you stupid fool. I don't need your sympathy. I don't need your help. I don't need you to care. I want you dead. I want you gone from my life. I want to be the only child, and not a girl. I want to be babied. How could you, who've had our parents waiting at your hands and feet your entire life even talk to me about them being uptight?

"What do you know?" I growled loudly, spinning around and standing up, facing him. Yes, I know, I was overreacting, but the day hadn't been lenient to me, and he was just adding oil to the flame. I have a right to lash out, I assured myself as I tried to ignore the hurt expression that was just about to take over my brother's automatically composed face.

We stood facing each other for a long time, me staring into the face that would soon be gone for good. Ren looked taken back, and he was blinking rapidly at me like he'd just seen me for the first time in his life. Well, this was the first time I've expressed my…feelings…toward him so openly. Oh, and now he was starting to pull the hurt-puppy face on me.

"I don't want you here!" I snarled, the hatred boiling in me, making me want to shudder, to throw something at him. "All you ever did is making me feel like second-handed goods. All you ever did is make me a maid while you were treated like a god. Go die somewhere and leave me be! GET. OUT!"

And I did throw something at him. I didn't remember what exactly went flying toward Ren, but it must have been glass, because I remembered it shatter against the wall. I remembered seeing a piece of it cut across my brother's cheek, remembered seeing a bit of red rolling down his face, remembering hearing my parents yelling and their footsteps running toward us.

I stood still in shock as Ren stared at me, his eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. Then, to my surprise, he quickly locked my door from the inside and slammed it shut. I heard my parents talking like crazed parakeets behind the door and Ren trying to assure them that it was an accident and so on and so forth. I, for my part, just stared at the door.

Only one thought occupied my mind: I'm in big trouble.

After what seemed like an eternity, the footsteps faded into the distance, and I collapse into my chair, breathing hard. What just happened? Why did I…do what I did? Sure, I was annoyed at Ren and all, but…I couldn't have gotten it to that extent, could I?

My eyes traveled to the shattered pieces of whatever it was that I've thrown at Ren. Yeah, that just happened.

Taking several shuddering breaths, I listened to the sound of the garage door being opened, our car getting out, and then closing. Then I shut down my computer, having lost the interest to type down anything and turned off the light before going to bed early.

It was the last time I saw my brother.

Sibling envy taken one step too far. Exaggerated, I know, but tolerance can only hold up for so long. And not to mention it was an Asian family. Vietnamese (I know that because I'm one) parents - the old-fashioned ones - are rather sexist. They always favor male offspring more than females, especially the eldest.

This is just to give my story a backbone. Feel free to send dreadful (but helpful, mind you) comments. I'll appreciate it.

~the Apprentice