I’ll Be Obedient and Eat, Mom, Don’t Be Cross With Me

Daniel, my father, had finally won over Sophia, my motherthe loving but secondary figure in their story.

He waited ten years for her to marry him, bringing along my three-year-old sister, Mia.

But after I was born, Mia developed a severe eating disorder.

She only smiled and ate more when feeding me.

So whenever she offered a spoon, Mom would gently hold my shoulders and force me to open my mouth.

At five, my teacher taught us to say no to things that made us unhappy.

One day, too full to eat another bite, I refused Mias spoon.

She cried until her face turned purple, as if Id hurt her deeply.

Mom rushed over, panicked, her nails digging into my skin.

You already have Mom and Dads love. Why compete with your sister?

Cant you be a good girl and eat a little more for her illness?

Dad looked at Mom with pity, took Mia, and said hed take her to the amusement park to cheer her up.

I writhed in pain on the floor, but Mom thought I was lying.

She slammed the door, saying shed punish me for disobeying.

I clutched my stomach, tears blurring my vision.

Im sorry, Mom.

Next time, Ill be a good girl and eat to make Mia happy.

I pressed my small hands tightly against my stomach, curling up in a ball.

In my mind, I remembered how Moms tummy aches always got better after she took the pills from the cabinet.

When I finally managed to open the pill bottle,

A sharp pain shot through my stomach, and the pills scattered across the floor.

Just as I was about to pick them up, I heard the door open.

My eyes lit upDad was home.

I reached out to him. "Dad, it feels like there are so many bugs biting my tummy..."

Dad hurried towards me, but Mom grabbed him.

"She doesn't speak a single truth."

"Have you forgotten how she stole snacks a few days ago, and when I caught her, she blamed Mia?"

"Now she's lying about a stomach ache, just trying to pretend to be sick so we won't take Mia out."

It wasn't like that.

Last time, Mia had brought the living room snacks into my room.

She tore open the wrappers, proudly stuffing them into her mouth.

She didn't look at all like the child who hated eating in front of Mom and Dad.

I told her to eat fewer snacks.

Otherwise, she wouldn't have an appetite for dinner later.

Mia puffed out her cheeks, deliberately waving a spicy chip in front of me.

When Mom opened the door, Mia purposefully put the chip in my hand.

And wiped the grease from her fingers onto my clothes.

I didn't mind. I happily told Mom that Mia's illness was gone.

But Mom angrily dragged me out of the room, making me kneel in the living room to think about what I'd done.

She called me a liar.

She said I had clearly stolen snacks myself and then tried to blame my sister, who had an eating disorder.

I cried, saying I hadn't stolen anything.

But Mom's face was as cold as the snow outside.

Chilling.

She threw me out the front door, saying she would abandon a lying child.

I cried for a very long time, begging Mom not to leave me.

Finally, Dad, unable to bear it, secretly slipped an egg into my hand.

He told me to quickly admit my mistake and not to make Mom angry.

As dusk fell, my stomach growled with hunger.

Mom held a steaming bowl of noodles, asking if I knew I was wrong.

Smelling the delicious noodles, I sobbed and said I knew I was wrong.

I had truly lied that time.

But Mom had forgiven me.

Thinking about it, even though I didn't truly know what I had done wrong this time,

I still carefully tugged at Mom's skirt, repeating over and over that I was sorry.

I thought Mom would hug me like that time, and say she loved me too.

But when she noticed the scattered pills on the floor, she angrily kicked me away.

"Stella Peterson, have you really become this mischievous?"

"First, you intentionally refuse to eat, trying to starve your sister, and now you're trying to trash the house!"

"Today, I will punish you!"

Dad was about to speak, but Mom's glare silenced him.

"Daniel Peterson, if you interfere with my disciplining Stella again, we're getting a divorce!"

Dad sighed helplessly.

He took me from Mom.

Just as I thought Dad would carry me to the hospital, he instead locked me in my bedroom himself.

Dad stroked my head.

"Stella, for the sake of this family, can you just be a good girl, okay?"

I clung tightly to Dad's coat, sobbing uncontrollably.

"But Dad, my tummy really hurts."

Mom's impatient voice came from the living room.

"Daniel, are you favoring Stella again?"

"When we remarried, you swore you'd treat Mia like your own daughter!"

"If you keep favoring the younger one, there's no point in us staying together!"

Hearing this, Dad roughly pushed me away.

He quickly left.

He didn't even notice that, due to his excessive force, I had fallen to the floor.

My head hit the corner of the table, leaving me dazed.

Through the crack in the still-open door, I saw Dad lifting Mia high, spinning her around.

A smile finally appeared on Mom's face.

She turned her head and met my gaze.

Mom frowned, then slammed the door shut.

The room plunged into darkness.

I couldn't see anything, but I heard Mom's words even more clearly.

She said, "Stella is a spoiled child."

"Eating is such a happy thing, yet she's even learned to waste food."

"A day in her room will teach her to appreciate every bite."

Then came her gentle voice.

She said, "Mia, you'll always be Mom's precious girl."

"It's okay if you don't like eating, but when you're hungry, you must tell Mom."

The house gradually quieted down.

It was pitch black, and my heart pounded rapidly.

But I was too short to reach the light switch.

I just climbed into bed.

If I slept, my tummy wouldn't hurt.

That's how I used to get through it.

But this time, my tummy really, really hurt.

I mimicked how Mom would coax Mia to eat, gently patting my swollen stomach.

"Please, don't hurt anymore!"

"It's all your fault, you made Mom think I'm naughty."

But it wouldn't listen to me. Instead, it hurt even more.

So, did Mom feel this much pain every time she scolded me for being naughty?

Tears splattered down.

I'm sorry, Mom.

It's all my fault for being naughty and making you hurt so many times.

My head started to ache too.

I wiped the sweat from my forehead.

It was clammy.

I remembered how Mom had locked me out the last time because of the oil stains on my clothes.

I frantically raised my hands, desperately trying to wipe my face clean.

But the sweat wouldn't wipe away.

And I felt colder and colder.

Even snuggled under the covers, I shivered with cold.

Gradually, I felt so, so tired, and finally fell asleep.

When I opened my eyes again, I found my tummy didn't hurt at all.

I excitedly bounced and jumped.

My body floated right through the locked bedroom door.

Just in time to see Mom and Dad returning.

Mom was patiently feeding Mia a sweet potato.

"Mia, just one more bite, okay?"

Mia shook her head away.

"No, no. It makes me sick just looking at it."

Mom sighed, her brows furrowed.

I raised my hand, wanting to smooth them, but my small hand couldn't reach Mom.

I vaguely realized that I was dead.

Just like the kitten Mia had thrown to its death.

Mia had insisted on getting that kitten.

But after just a few days, she complained it smelled bad.

So Mom gave me the task of caring for the kitten.

I didn't mind the kitten smelling bad at all.

Every day after school, the first thing I did was change its water and add food.

After a while, the kitten would let me pet it and even purr for me.

With it, I never felt sad anymore when Mom and Dad only paid attention to Mia.

Okay, I lied again.

I was still a little sad.

Just a tiny bit.

When Mia noticed the kitten preferred me, she snatched it right out of my arms.

The kitten meowed in fright, scratching her as it struggled.

Mom's face was exceptionally grim that night.

When Mia came back after getting her vaccine, the kitten hid under the bed, too scared to come out.

I knelt before Mom, crying and apologizing for the kitten.

But Mom said that a vicious animal couldn't be kept.

She even said I was heartless.

"In your heart, is your sister's safety less important than a vicious animal?"

I cried, saying it was different.

Mia had Mom and Dad's love.

The kitten only had me.

If I couldn't protect it, no one else would.

Mom said I was being illogical and told Dad to hold me back.

She grabbed the kitten and brought it to Mia, letting her do whatever she wanted with it.

I struggled desperately, but I could only watch helplessly as the kitten was thrown to its death.

I cried until my throat was hoarse.

But Mom only cared that Mia had eaten three more bites of food that day.

As for Dad, he only cared about Mom's mood.

When the kitten died, I was sad.

But I died, and no one even cared.

Dad placed the various toys he was carrying on the sofa.

He also had a sweet potato in his hand, and he knocked on my door.

"Stella, are you asleep? Dad brought you something good to eat."

Mia, who had been playing with her Barbie doll, jumped off the stool and whined to Mom,

"Mom, I want the sweet potato Dad has."

Seeing Mia's rare appetite, Mom immediately swapped the sweet potato with Dad.

Watching Mia eat bite after bite, Mom's eyes reddened with excitement.

Perhaps emboldened by Mom not being able to see me, I loudly declared that I hated Mia the most.

She always so unreasonably snatched my things.

Even if there were two identical items, Mia always thought mine was better.

Even Mom would suspect Dad was secretly buying me better things.

So every time, what I got was what Mia didn't want, or her leftovers.

Even my dresses and shoes were all hand-me-downs from Mia.

Thinking about it, I sighed heavily.

Mom always said she envied me for being young and carefree.

But I had so many, many worries.

Mom said Mia didn't have her biological father, so she had to be extra good to her.

My biological father also said he had to be good to Mia.

He said he was a stepfather, and he had to be fair, otherwise people would talk.

Mom and Dad both said they had to be good to Mia, repeatedly telling me that I had to be good to Mia too.

I counted on my fingers.

Five was clearly smaller than eight.

Why did five-year-old me have to give in to eight-year-old Mia?

When Mom noticed Dad still standing by my bedroom door, she immediately grew furious.

"Didn't I say she was to go without food for a day?"

"If you go soft on her, you're sleeping in the study tonight!"

Dad didn't speak, but called my name again.

Still, I didn't respond.

I floated beside him, repeating over and over that I was here.

But he couldn't hear me.

Dad finally lost his patience, muttering,

"Why is this child so stubborn?"

Mom was even more triumphant.

"See? I told you so!"

"Stella is just an ungrateful wretch. She's only been locked up for three hours and she's already deliberately ignoring you."

"If she's like this now, who knows how rebellious she'll be when she grows up."

"She's nothing like our Mia, who's so obedient and smart."

Mia proudly lifted her head, quickly swallowing the food in her mouth.

Seeing this, Mom praised Mia non-stop.

I watched enviously as Mom fed Mia.

She had never once fed me.

Mom said I already had Dad, so she had to give more of her love to Mia.

She was busy cooking for Mia, busy taking Mia to elementary school, busy taking Mia to the doctor.

I, however, was left with Mrs. Gable, our neighbor.

As time went on, the other children started to tease me for not having a dad to pick me up.

I frowned, loudly insisting they were wrong.

Because not only did Dad never pick me up, Mom hadn't either!

As I got a little older, I learned to feed myself.

But Mia would volunteer to feed me.

The food was so hot, the spoon hit my tongue, it hurt so much, and my stomach was so, so full...

But every time I mentioned these things, Mom called me fussy.

She told me to eat more, saying it was the only way Mia would be happy.

If Mia was happy, her eating disorder would get better.

And when she was better, Mom said she'd finally have time to love me.

But I waited and waited for so long.

And Mom's day to love me never came.

That evening, after tucking Mia into bed, Mom went into the kitchen.

After cooking a bowl of noodles, she knocked on my door.

"Stella, are you hungry?"

Mom sighed. "Earlier today, Mom lost her temper."

"I'm sorry, Mom didn't mean it, it's just..."

Mom didn't finish her sentence, placing the noodles outside the door.

"If you're hungry, just open the door and come eat."

This was the second time Mom had cooked me noodles.

The first time I ate them, I thought they were delicious.

Because even Mia didn't get Mom's specially cooked noodles.

Mom would only make her braised pork ribs and sweet and sour pork.

It's such a pity.

I'll never get to eat Mom's food again.

The next morning, upon seeing the overturned bowl of noodles outside my door, Mom instantly flew into a rage.

"Stella Peterson, how long are you going to keep this up?"

"I apologized to you yesterday, how can such a small child hold such a grudge?"

I anxiously tried to explain it wasn't me.

Mia had deliberately knocked it over in the middle of the night.

But Mom couldn't hear me.

She grew angrier and angrier, pushing open the bedroom door.

Mia, who had just brushed her teeth, followed her.

Through the morning light, Mia pointed at the red stain on the floor, tattling:

"Stella ate ketchup in her room!"

"She's not a good girl at all!"

Then she pointed at the lump under the covers.

"Mom, look! She's even hiding, feeling guilty!"

With each accusation, Mom's face grew darker.

She didn't even bother to wake me, instead taking Mia's hand and admonishing her:

"Don't be like your sister."

"She was born to be nothing but trouble!"

Mia happily shook her head.

"I won't be like Stella Peterson, she's a greedy pig!"

To punish me, Mom spent the entire day shopping at the mall.

But she didn't know I was following right behind her.

I listened as she boasted to the sales assistant about her obedient older daughter.

Only the younger one was rebellious, always trying to compete with her sister for attention.

The sales assistant said children grow out of it.

Mom agreed.

So, amidst bags and bags of clothes all for Mia,

She finally decided to buy me a new pair of small leather shoes.

But Children's Day had long passed.

Back then, I wore worn-out sandals and was teased by the other kids for looking like I came from nothing.

Now, even with new shoes, I didn't want them anymore.