Escaping My Toxic Family

The day the ACT scores were released, I was scrolling through Reddit when a post on r/parenting caught my eye:

[Both my daughters are heading out of state to colleges in the Northeast. How should I divide their monthly allowance to be fair?]

The top comments were unanimous:

[Are you seriously asking? You love them both. Equal amounts are the only fair way!]

I was about to keep scrolling, but a new top comment stopped me.

It was my older brother, Graham's, profile picture.

[You guys don’t know the whole story. As their older brother, I'll be real with you—you don't raise two completely different girls the same way.]

[The older one is plain, a bit dull, and wouldn't even know how to spend the money if you gave it to her. The younger one is gorgeous and outgoing. Her skincare routine alone costs two grand!]

[Honestly? Give the older one $700 and the younger one $7,000. That’s actual equity.]

Right beneath that, Silas—my childhood friend—had chimed in:

[He's rught!]

[Besides, since we'll all be at schools up Northeast anyway, we can keep an eye on Poppy. Auntie won't have to worry about a thing.]

I stared at the screen. A bitter laugh escaped my lips, bringing tears to my eyes.

It reminded me of when we went to the fair as kids.

They all desperately wanted to ride the giant Ferris wheel, but didn't want to carry their heavy backpacks and oversized stuffed animals.

So they assigned me the "crucial" role of being the group's guard at the exit.

I stood there for forty minutes, my arms aching under the weight of their stuff.

I kept waiting for them to come down so it would finally be my turn.

It wasn't until the ride operator told me the park was closing that I realized the truth.

They had slipped out the back gate ages ago to watch the fireworks together.

Growing up didn't change a thing.

They were marching side-by-side toward bright futures at Ivy League schools, while I was just the cheap, built-in babysitter tagging along.

Watching the clock tick down to the final minute of National College Decision Day, I logged into my portals and hit "Decline Offer" for every single Ivy League school in the Northeast.

Instead, I hit "Submit Deposit" for the University of Miami. Two thousand miles away.

They thought they could just string me along to play the cheap babysitter for their precious princess?

Sorry. I just fired myself from this circus.

......

"Flora, come out and have some fruit."

A soft knock on the door pulled me back to reality.

Mom stood in the doorway, holding a plate of sliced cantaloupe, her face plastered with a gentle smile.

"It’s okay if your scores weren't great, honey. Don't lock yourself up in your room."

I quickly closed the Reddit app and walked out into the living room.

Mom handed the sweetest, center pieces of the melon to my younger sister, Poppy.

Then she turned to me with a pitying look.

"Even if you have to go to community college, your dad and I won't judge you. It’s not like we can’t afford to keep you around."

On my phone screen, the text message from the State Board of Education was still glowing.

[Flora Hayes: Flora Hayes. Composite Score: 36. Percentile: 99.9th.]

I clicked the screen off and placed the phone face-down on the coffee table.

"Yeah, I know," I said quietly.

Dad was sitting on the couch with Graham, both of them helping Poppy pick a school.

"Poppy really outdid herself with a 28 this time. A solid state school is a lock. What are you thinking? Boston or New York?" Graham's voice was practically dripping with pride.

"New York, duh! That's where Silas is going!" Poppy giggled, leaning comfortably into Mom's shoulder.

From start to finish, not a single person in that room looked at me and asked, "What did you get?"

Dad snapped the directory shut and clapped his hands together with a grin. "Alright, we can figure out the college stuff later."

"To reward our little Poppy, I’m taking you girls to the mall for graduation gifts!"

"Whatever you want, Dad's paying. Go get dressed!"

My heart gave a faint flutter.

Ever since Poppy got sick when we were twelve, I hadn't been granted the privilege of "picking out a gift at the mall."

"Okay." I stood up and hurried back to my room.

I buttoned up a clean white button-down shirt and even carefully applied a little bit of light-pink lip gloss.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I took a deep breath.

Maybe, just maybe, they still cared about me a little bit.

I pushed my bedroom door open.

The living room was dead silent.

By the front door, Mom’s, Dad’s, and Graham’s shoes were gone.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

It was an Instagram notification.

Poppy had posted a new photo three minutes ago.

[Whole family squad out to the mall to buy my graduation gifts! 💕🛍️]

It was a selfie taken inside Dad's car.

Dad was driving, Graham was in the passenger seat, and Mom and Poppy were buckled up in the back.

Four people, smiling brightly into the camera.

In that five-seater car, they hadn't bothered to save a seat for me.

My fingers felt stiff as ice as I dialed Mom's number. "Hello? Flora, what's up?"

The background on the other end was loud.

"You guys... left?" I heard my own voice drop to a whisper.

"Oh gosh, I completely forgot to tell you!"

Mom sounded casual.

"You were in your room for so long, I just figured you didn't want to come out in this heat."

"Just stay home and enjoy the AC. There’s still half a watermelon in the fridge."

She hadn't even bothered to ask me. She just made the decision for me.

"Mom! I want that Häagen-Dazs ice cream!" Poppy's whiny, sweet voice echoed through the phone.

"Alright, alright, we'll get you the double scoop," Mom replied lovingly to her, before rushing back to me.

"Anyway Flora, I gotta go. We’re gonna look at some purses with your sister."

Beep—

The call disconnected.