I was the good kid everyone talked about. Mom and Dad were always praising me. They never hit or scolded me. Even when they were angry, they would only stare at me coldly and tell me to behave. I was expected to do the laundry and cook, while my younger brother didn’t have to lift a finger. I came first in every exam and all I got was, “Keep it up.” My brother got average grades, and Mom and Dad rewarded him with whatever he wanted. They said that as his older sister, I should take care of him, so I never fought back or competed with him. One bet my brother made with his friends ended my life. Only then did I understand that praise didn’t mean love. No matter how hard I tried, I could never outweigh my brother in my parents’ hearts.
