1 I was spending the summer watching my sister-in-law's kid when she gave me her old, discarded laptop. Before I could even feel a flicker of excitement, I overheard her complaining to my brother. "She's only helping with the kid because she wants something out of it." My parents were in the living room with me. We all heard her. But no one said a word in my defense. I looked around at my so-called family and suddenly understood. There was only one outsider in this house. I picked up the laptop, walked to their bedroom door, and pushed it open. "Sarah," I said, my voice shaking, "I can't take advantage of you like this. Here's your laptop back. Just pay me the standard babysitting rate." The air went still. Sarah just glared at me. My brother, Mark, shot to his feet. "Chloe, is that any way to talk to your sister-in-law?" "How am I talking to her? You're the ones who think I'm taking advantage of you. So I'm giving it back. Or would you rather just have a free nanny?" It was the first time I had ever talked back. My hands, clutching the laptop, were trembling. "You ungrateful brat," my mother chimed in. "Free nanny? Do you not eat our food? Do you not sleep under our roof? You think you're some kind of princess who doesn't have to lift a finger?" Free room and board? Since the summer started, I hadn't had a single day off. My nephew was three, a tornado of energy that required 24/7 supervision. As soon as Mark and Sarah got home from work, my mom would send me to help out at their barbecue joint. We’d get home around midnight, and then I'd have to put my nephew to bed. There were only three bedrooms in the house. My parents had one, Mark and Sarah had another, and the last was the nursery. So every school break, I slept in there with the kid. He was a restless sleeper, and I ended up curled on a thin mat on the window seat. He was the golden grandchild, spoiled rotten. A few days ago, he'd screamed at me, "This is my room! This is my house! Get out!" all because I was trying to get him to do some preschool prep work. They all heard him. Sarah just gently chided him, "Your auntie will get married and move out soon. Then you'll miss her." My parents just said he was a kid, that I shouldn't take it seriously. But how could I not? I was the outsider here, a second-class citizen. This house was never meant for me. 2 My brother is eight years older than me. My parents always said having a son and a daughter was the perfect combination. Relatives would coo about how lucky I was to have a big brother. I don't remember him ever being kind to me. From my earliest memories, he was always stern, always scowling. My parents just said he wasn't good at expressing his feelings. He didn't go to college. After drifting for a few years, he came back home. My parents drained their life savings and took out a massive loan to buy him a house in the city, a prerequisite for any decent marriage proposal. Then they went into debt again for Sarah's dowry. They only just finished paying it all off last year. All the family's resources were poured into him. When it was my turn to go to college, there was nothing left. The summer after I graduated high school, the atmosphere in the house was tense. I heard Sarah screaming at Mark that she never would have married him if she knew I was going to be such a "burden." No one corrected her. I just tried to make myself invisible. That was the summer my nephew was born. My parents were busy with their own small business, and Mark had to work, so I became Sarah's full-time postpartum nurse. I cooked, I cleaned, I took care of the baby. I did everything she asked. Maybe I did too good a job. A week before I was supposed to leave for college, Mark made a grand announcement at dinner. "My little sister worked hard to get into a good school. I'll pay for her tuition. But you'll have to work for your own spending money, Chloe. You know how tight things are." I wanted to scream. The money's tight because you spent it all on your house and your wife! But I knew if I said anything, they would all turn on me. So I stayed silent. And in my silence, my status in the family solidified. "Chloe, you have to remember what your brother has done for you," my parents would say, over and over again. "He's sacrificing so much to send you to school. You have to be grateful." Sarah would just slam her chopsticks down and glare at me. I felt like I was on trial, expected to swear an oath of eternal gratitude, to declare that my brother was my savior. 3 I worked my way through college. Mark sent me a thousand dollars a month for the first two months, and then Sarah started sending me links to articles: "Best Part-Time Jobs for College Students," "How to Apply for Financial Aid." She'd even send me links to stories about grateful younger siblings who had paid their older siblings back tenfold. "Look how close these two are!" she'd text. "I just want you and Mark to have a good relationship." The pressure was suffocating. I was constantly worried about money. When I came home for winter break, she would hint that I should buy toys and clothes for her son. And when I did, she'd say, "Oh, you silly girl, I was just kidding!" Then she'd brag to everyone, "Look how successful Chloe is, already buying gifts for her nephew." My mom would just add, "Well, her brother paid for her education. It's the least she can do." They seemed to think college was a four-year vacation where money just magically appeared. I started to dread coming home. I could be earning money instead of being a servant. But when I told my mom I'd found a summer job, she laid a guilt trip on me. "How can you be so selfish? Your brother is paying for your tuition, and you can't even come home to help out for a few weeks?" I caved. The first summer, it was because Mark and Sarah were threatening to divorce and someone had to watch the kid. The next, it was because they'd opened the barbecue joint and were short-staffed. And when I hesitated, my mom "accidentally" slipped and hurt her back, and I had to rush home to take care of her. "If you'd come home earlier, this wouldn't have happened," she'd grumbled. And now, after a month of non-stop work, my reward was a seven-year-old, hand-me-down laptop. And I was the one who was "taking advantage." I hadn't had my own computer since high school. For group projects, I had to beg to borrow my classmates'. I had a dozen laptops saved in my Amazon cart, but I could never bring myself to spend the money. And this is what I got for my sacrifice. Being called a freeloader. 4 My mother was still ranting. "You live here for free! You eat our food! Is it too much to ask for you to help out a little?" I clutched the old laptop, tears welling in my eyes. "Did I ask to come back? I found a job! You're the one who begged me to come home! I'm damned if I do, damned if I don't. What did I do to deserve this?" "You think you're being taken advantage of?" my mom screamed. "Was it a crime to give birth to you? Was it a crime for your brother to help you? Who in this family owes you anything? If you don't like it, you can get out!" "Did I ask you to give birth to me?!" I shrieked, smashing the laptop on the floor. "You're the ones who are guilty! Just kill me and get it over with!" My mom slapped me across the face. "After all I've done for you, this is how you speak to me?" Sarah kicked over a chair and stormed out. "I can't believe I married into this family. We pay for her school, and this is the thanks we get." Mark ran after her, holding their son. My dad finally spoke. "Are you happy now? Is this what you wanted? Your brother is helping you, and you're still not satisfied? You're tearing this family apart." I went to my room to pack. I didn't even have a suitcase. The one they'd bought me for high school had broken years ago. I stuffed a few clothes into a backpack. My dad threw a glass against the wall. "Do you ever think about anyone but yourself? Do you have any idea the pressure your brother is under? Don't you have any gratitude?" Gratitude. That word again. I was so sick of it. I turned to face him. "Why did he have to pay for my tuition? Do I not have parents? Where did all your money go?" "Are you blaming us now?" he roared. "We did the best we could! How was your brother supposed to get married if we didn't buy him a house?" "I'm sorry," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm sorry your son was too stupid to get into college. I'm sorry I was born and cost you money. I'm sorry I dared to live in your house. I'm sorry I dared to get an education. Why don't you just kill me now? It would be easier for everyone." He raised his hand to hit me, but I dodged. And in that moment, I finally saw them clearly. They weren't my parents. They were his parents. They were his followers, and he was their god. And they expected me to be the sacrifice. I walked out the door, their curses following me. "Let her go! She'll come crawling back when tuition is due!" I turned back one last time. "You're right! It's your bad luck that you had me! But that's just business, isn't it? Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. You should have had more sons to sacrifice!"
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