The Birthday Blowout

When I turned eighteen, my older brother finally decided to throw me a birthday party.

During the photo op, he didn't care that the cake had supports, he just shoved my head right into it.

My foster sister flashed her sweetest smile, while my left eye struggled to focus.

At the hospital while getting patched up, she posted two pictures on her Insta story.

One was her acceptance letter from Stanford, the other a selfie with my brother at Disneyland.

The caption read:

"Dream school, dream guy, all mine on this special day! 💖

"PS: My brother's surprise was so funny!!"

Turns out, the "birthday party" was just a prop for my brother's surprise for her.

Instead of causing a scene like I would have in the past, I just liked it and commented, "Every day's special now, because he’s all yours."

Then, I accepted my early admission to MIT.

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"Claire! What was up with that comment on Sarah’s post? She's been throwing up because of you!

"Don’t you know she just got her early admission to Stanford? You ruined the best day of her life! Get your ass back here and apologize, or you’re not my sister anymore!"

He hung up before I could even say a word.

I couldn’t help but laugh humorlessly. So, Sarah getting into Stanford is the best day of her life, but my eighteenth birthday isn’t worth celebrating?

Why... did I have to lose the use of an eye for her to smile?

I brought my hand up to cover my left eye, gritting my teeth to hold back the tears.

The doctor said crying wouldn't help my eye recover, but it was so frustrating.

Sarah was faking it, I was the one who got hurt.

My head was bleeding after my brother shoved it into the cake, but all he could do was stare at Sarah's sweet smile in the pictures. Then he threw a careless glance my way and said,

"Sarah wants to go to Disneyland. Wash your face and order some takeout, Claire."

Sarah was beaming, “Sorry, sis, but that was hilarious!”

I'll never understand how people can laugh when others are suffering.

All I knew was that after the doctor told me I might never see out of my left eye again, my heart just sank.

The doctor asked, "Your family, where are they?"

I froze.

I didn’t seem to have a family anymore.

My mom and dad were both firefighters. They both died saving Sarah in a blaze. They pushed her into my brother's arms before they were lost.

From then on, my brother treated Sarah like she was a living medal of valor, a constant reminder of our parents.

She’d had her respiratory tract and digestive system burned in the fire, leaving her fragile. When Sarah threw up blood when we fought, I got warned not to mess with her anymore.

Sarah seemed to have found a method to her madness. Every time I did something she didn’t like, she'd spew blood.

I showed my brother the fake blood packets I found, but all I got was three days of being grounded in my room.

He hated liars, he said.

That day, the one who craved her brother's affection, just shook her head at the doctor:

"I don't have an...