“For you a thousand times over.” The words rang in my ears. They were as fresh as the wounds that I bore. My sister had said them as she left to get some food for us. It was her sixteenth birthday. All was proceeding well until I interfered, and ruined it. No one would treat a sibling the way I treated my sister. I was the most selfish person in the world. I had sliced my foot with a knife, deliberately, just to be the center of attention!
My sister had always been the apple of my parents’ eyes. She was good at everything. Be it creativity, grades, housekeeping or even cooking. She was always getting praised by everyone and I was just neglected. Coaxed, that I had not adopted the good qualities of my sister. I had had enough, and wanted to take revenge. Vengeance, made me so blind, that I hatched up a plan to crush my sisters happiness.
My parents had thrown a grand party for the occasion. They had hired the best decorators, caterers and invited all those people, whom my sister considered as family, friends or just mere acquaintances. The guests started arriving and everyone in my family stood up to welcome them. I too, was supposed to do the same; but I had other plans. Escaping my fathers’ hawk-like eyes, I quietly slipped into the kitchen.
There, I took out a sharp knife from the drawer and pulled out a stool. I sat on the stool with on leg on my lap and the knife held firmly in my hand. My mission was clear; Slice the foot and scream. As I neared the sharp knife to my foot, the terror of injuring myself seized me. But I held my hand firm. I was going to commence the evil act, when something came over my mind, and I stopped. Wounding myself, while sitting on a stool would make it obvious that I had cut myself deliberately! Such was the mischief in my mind!
So, I stood up, dropped the knife to the floor, and with my eyes shut and heart thumping loudly, I daringly stepped on it; which was lying the sharp side upward, without having any second thoughts. I winced in pain and fell to the floor, my foot clutched tightly with my hands. Then, I screamed until people came running towards me. Blood was oozing fast. The cut had gone deeper than I intended it to be.
The party was forgotten and I was rushed to the hospital. When questioned, how the injury was inflicted, I lied that I had been unaware of the knife lying on the floor. My parents were suspicious at first, but as it could be a possibility, they believed me. My sister was not present the whole time; that is almost an hour that I spent getting stitched up. I supposed that she was upset as her birthday had been spoiled. Her sweet sixteen, the day she had anxiously been waiting for. She was not happy. And this made me smile broadly.
Then, sometime later she arrived with some flowers, and a get well soon card. I enquired what had taken her so long, and also accused that she did not care for me at all. She replied that she had stayed back so that the caterers and decorator could pack up, and she could make up my room to suit me comfortably.
Hearing this, tears welled up in my eyes and I apologized for ruining her day. I confessed my deed, and told her how jealous I had been of her. I expected her to scold me, or even complain to my parents, but to my wonderment she did none of that. Instead, she pulled me into a sisterly hug and said, “Bia, you know we love you, there was no need to hurt yourself. And I am very sorry that it is because of me that you feel that way, but you must know that nothing is more important to me than you!”
I was very ashamed of myself. How could I be so mean to my own sister for whom, I meant the world! There was nothing that I could do to repay her. My resentment for her overrode the love that I had for her. Though she tried very hard to hide the melancholy of her heart, her eyes betrayed her. I had broken her heart. I had lost her trust. And for that shameful act, I can never forgive myself.