The Deception of Family Affection
Chapter 1
My stepsister went full drama queen online, whining about how she’s treated in our blended family.
The post went viral, millions of shares, rocketed to number one trending, and basically doxed our entire family.
“Your mom’s a homewrecker, and homewreckers deserve to rot!”
“You’re just as bad! Watch your back!”
The internet was a cesspool of hate, and at school, I was officially persona non grata.
My stepsister calls me, all sweetness and light:
“No biggie, the internet forgets everything. Sis just needed to make a little cash, you cool with that, right?”
1
My roommates, who were all buddy-buddy with me that morning, did a total 180 that afternoon.
Nobody wanted to be seen talking to me. Finally, this quiet girl slides me a link: “You should probably see this.”
That’s when I found out what was going down.
[Eighteen Years After My Dad Remarried, I Want to Die]
This tweet was the number one trending topic, thanks to my lovely stepsister.
She claimed that eighteen years ago, Dad divorced her mom and immediately married some other woman.
And BAM! This new woman pops out a daughter.
Since she was the ex-wife’s kid, my stepmom supposedly always hated her. Limited her to half a bowl of food, made her wear only depressing colors like gray and navy.
“But how come my little sister always got the cool clothes in every color of the rainbow?” she wrote.
Her sister ripped up her homework, stole a toy from a friend.
And Mom and Dad would just say, “You’re the older one, can’t you be the bigger person?”
Dad promised her new toys, promised a trip to Disney for her birthday.
“No toy, no Disney.”
“When I got to middle school, I realized I got my butt beat every summer for supposedly failing my classes, then forced to clean the house while my parents took my sister to Disney.”
“It’s laughable, right? That I’m in my twenties and still dwelling on this crap.”
“But I honestly can’t take it anymore.”
She said she dropped out of high school to start working, while her sister went to some fancy prep school.
She claimed she was bringing home $3,500 a month, only $800 of which was her own. Because, according to her parents, her sister needed the money for college.
Because she didn’t even have a high school diploma, the sister looked down on her, called her dumb and useless.
“They even asked me to save up a little money every year, to pay for a new house for my sister when she gets married.”
“Why?! Is it just because I don’t have a mom in the picture?”
“Mom said she didn’t have any money but that once she did she would come get me…”
“It’s been decades.”
My sister spun a great yarn, full of tears and woe. Every sentence felt like hearing her sobbing.
The last part hinted at her wanting to get out of it all, and then just… stopped. If I didn’t know better, I’d be freaking out.
Sure enough, the top comments were all telling her to stay strong, not to do anything drastic.
“Please don’t do anything stupid! Get away from those people!”
“That family’s trash, all bloodsuckers. You deserve better.”
“Divorced kids have it so rough. Nobody cares, and then you get stuck with a toxic stepmom.”
“They’re the ones who should be gone. Live your best life, you deserve it!”
The comments section had hundreds of thousands of messages, all riled up.
Half the people were dragging me and Mom, the other half were encouraging her and dragging me and Mom.
After hitting number one trending, the post kept blowing up. By afternoon, I was getting harassed with phone calls and texts.
I became public enemy number one fast. Even in the cafeteria line, people recognized me.
“Ungrateful little brat! Ptooey!”
“Looks all sweet and innocent, but she’s a real piece of work! Got no shame.”
Someone chucked food at me. A glob of something greasy slid down my neck and back. I pulled it off, oil still dripping.
People in the back were snickering. I walked over and dumped it on their table:
“You’re in college, shouldn’t you be able to tell the difference between fact and fiction?”
2
The group went silent when I spoke, looking almost embarrassed.
They probably didn’t expect me to confront them.
They snapped back pretty quick: “It’s all right there! Are we supposed to think its a mistake?”
“Wedding certificate and birth certificate. Photos dont lie! Your mom got knocked up and then married your dad, right?”
“Is that what they teach you at home? How to act like a victim? How to gaslight?”
“If your actions drive your sister to suicide, you’re a murderer! Get ready to spend your life in jail!”
I just smirked: “Are you guys studying law? Is your major ‘Twitter Judge’? The kind who are all fired up but don’t use any actual brains?”
After my little speech, I grabbed my tray, dumped my food, and left the cafeteria.
I munched on a granola bar back in my room, called my sister eight times, and she didn’t pick up once. No texts either.
Finally, almost bedtime, she calls me back.
“What’s your deal?” I said, my voice shaking with anger.
“No biggie, just making some money. You don’t mind, right?”
“Everyone online is hating on me, Mom, and Dad. Students at school are whispering about me.”
“Relax, it’ll blow over. People forget stuff all the time.”
“But–”
“Boyfriend’s calling, gotta go.”
And she hung up.
I could hear a party in the background, sounds like she was at a bar or club or something.
My sister lives for the drama. One day it’s a date with her boyfriend, the next it’s hanging with friends. Sometimes she goes to work, but usually quits within a couple of days. She goes through jobs like candy.
In less than two days, I was completely ostracized.
My stuff in the dorm got trashed, my bed was soaked. People threw apple cores at me in the hallway, filled my backpack with trash and mud.
I told the resident advisor, and she warned the other students about facing consequences if it continued. They backed off a little, but the whispering never stopped.
On the third day, I got a delivery notification, but I hadn’t ordered anything. I called the shipping center and refused delivery.
Almost a week later, the controversy was still going strong.
Everyone online was looking for my sister.
“Just let us know you’re okay! We’re all worried!”
“This isn’t just about one family, it’s a societal problem!”
Every media outlet was jumping on the bandwagon, churning out article after article about this “issue.”
[How Should a Stepchild Navigate Life in a Blended Family?]
[If You Don’t Love the Kids, You Shouldn’t Have Custody!]
[Unmet Childhood Needs Will be a Driving Force for the Rest of Your Life]
Anyone who dared to question the story got hammered.
“The reason why the world is so cold is because of people like you!”
“Hope your kids get abused by their stepparents someday.”
Mom and Dad called me constantly. I didn’t tell them what was going on at school. Didn’t want to add to their stress.
“Where’s your sister?”
“She’s home. She got back a couple days ago.”
3
My sister doesn’t usually live with us. She rents an apartment with her boyfriend, paid for by my parents.
On Friday, I got home, and there she was. My sister, the one everyone on the internet was searching for, relaxing on the couch, watching TV, playing on her phone, surrounded by takeout containers and snacks.
Her phone rang, and she yelled, “I’m in the middle of a game! Stop calling me!”
“Oh, right! Shopping day! I’m on my way, just getting a ride!!”
She threw on some clothes and shoes, and I heard my parents talking from the kitchen: “Honey, you’re going out? Dinner’s almost ready.”
“Hanging out with friends, not coming back to eat!”
She grabbed her shiny purse and breezed out the door.
“Oh, hey, Ashley’s back.”
She brushed past me, and the door slammed shut behind her.
Later at dinner, my sister never showed.
Dad sighed at the table, not saying a word.
This dinner was specially made for us, half my favorite dishes, half my sister’s. Whenever she came home, Dad would drop everything, even go to the store to buy what she wants.
“It’s okay. Let’s eat, let’s eat.”
Dad tried to make conversation, but it was still tense.
It was always like this when my sister came home.
My sister is five years older than me. The first time I remember her arguing with Dad, she had beaten up a girl at school and refused to apologize.
She barely made it to high school, then she found a boyfriend online and decided to drop out.
Later, she got dumped, and came crying back to ask my parents for money to pay for an abortion.
She stayed with us for a while, then found another boyfriend. She came home every month or two.
Dad was stressing out, trying to get her a job.
My sister came home around eleven, which was actually early for her.
She was carrying a bunch of designer shopping bags, and wearing all new clothes.
Her face was flushed, and she smelled like alcohol.
Dad heard her come in and came out of the bedroom, looking angry: “You finally decide to come home?”
She didn’t even care, and immediately said: “When am I getting my money?”
I was confused: “What money?”
“The $80,000. I’ve been asking you for days! The down payment for my house.”
“We don’t have that kind of money right now! Can’t you be reasonable?”
“Then that woman can give it to me.”
“That woman” was standing in the doorway: “We agreed that when you got a job and started paying your social security, then we would give you the money. But right now–“
My sister cut her off. “I’m not your real daughter, of course you’d say that!”
“You always try to find some excuse. If it was your daughter, would you say no?”
“Are you telling me that my dad can’t spend his own money? You can keep your opinions to yourself.”
Hearing that, my mom turned around and went back to the bedroom.
Whenever she talked to my mom, my sister would always say “Not my real parents.”
She was loud and fast, and my mom rarely argued with her.
4
Dad got even angrier: “That’s enough! Since you were a kid, did we ever deny you anything? You have no shame?!”
“I was just kidding. People will believe what they want.” My sister’s voice went down, but then she said, “I’ll go online and clear everything up. I just need to get my money.”
“No, I don’t have money for you!”
Seeing them argue, I stepped forward: “I’ll talk to her.”
Mom came back out to stop them, and Dad went back to the bedroom.
My sister glared at me: “What, trying to negotiate?”
“Eighty thousand is eighty thousand, I’m not lowering the price.” She smiled at me: “But there’s more. You can pay my monthly mortgage. Me and my boyfriend may not make enough.”
“You’re the real daughter, so you can ask them for it. They’ll say yes.” The smile disappeared from her face.
I dried my hair with a towel, tied it up, and asked: “How much did you make?”
“What’s it to you?”
“You have so many followers. Just write some articles and sell some products. You’ll make your money soon.”
“I got it on my own. Shouldn’t you guys pay for my house?”
“If we don’t give you the money, what will you do?”
“Hmph.” She looked at me: “Then get ready to get dragged.”
I smiled and said: “Does sister know that there are security cameras in the living room?”
