I Am The Blood You Despised

Ever since I was old enough to understand, my billionaire parents and my brother hammered one truth into my head: I was a stray, a placeholder, a counterfeit.

If I so much as smiled at my brother, hed sneer and call me a social climber. When I won a prestigious gold medal for piano, my parents didnt celebrate; they had the Steinway smashed to pieces. They told me I was "drinking the blood" of their real daughter.

The entire family lived in a state of constant vigilance. They were terrified of being kind to me, afraid that an ounce of warmth would whet my appetite and lead me to challenge the "rightful" heiress one day.

So, when the real daughter finally returned, I was the one who asked to leave. I told them I wanted to find my biological parents.

But they blocked me at every turn. They said that as long as I stayed in my place and kept my head down, I could remain their "daughter" and "sister."

I was stupid enough to believe them.

Then came a mock exam. The real daughter failed. She cried, saying she could never be as good as me no matter how hard she tried, and then she staged a dramatic suicide attempt by nicking her wrist. In retaliation, they reported me for "cheating" during the SATs and orchestrated a sequence of events that landed me in a correctional facility. They called it the price for "occupying a throne that wasn't mine."

To atone, I endured every slander and every cold shoulder in silence.

The day I was finally released, they presented me with a "surprise." It turns out, I was their biological daughter all along.

They had kept it a secret because they were afraid their long-lost adopted daughter would feel heartbroken if she realized they had replaced her with a biological child while she was gone.

Now that the "older sister" has finally "accepted" me, theyve come to collect me, smiling and ready for a happy family reunion.

1.

The day I walked out, the sky was a bruised gray, and the wind was a serrated blade that cut straight to the bone.

The guard handed me a thin, worn-out coat. "Michelle Vance, youre free. From now on... don't be stupid." He looked at my tightly clenched sleeves, his voice dropping an octave. "And tell your family... tell them to get you a therapist."

My eyes were hollow. I nodded, pulling my sleeves down even further to hide what lay beneath.

Yes. I had served my time. I had paid my debt. Now, I could go find my real family.

I hadnt walked ten yards when a black Rolls-Royce, hazard lights blinking, pulled up to the curb. The window slid down, revealing a face as familiar as it was striking.

Dominic. Sophies "loving" older brother.

His gaze was exactly as I remembered: cold, clinical, devoid of any warmth.

"Michelle. Get in. Were going home."

I didnt look at him. I kept walking toward the bus stop.

Just as I reached the steps of the bus, a hand clamped onto my shoulder with bruising force. I was yanked back, my spine colliding with the icy metal of the car.

Dominic loomed over me, his eyes filled with that familiar, reflexive disdain. "What are you doing? Throwing a tantrum like Sophie used to? Trying to make us feel guilty?"

"Did two years in a cell teach you nothing but theatrics?"

Ever since I went inside, my brain had felt like rusted clockworkslow, heavy, grinding. I stared at him blankly, taking a long time to process his words.

Finally, I shook my head. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, softened and frayed from being folded and unfolded a thousand times. I smoothed it out for him to see.

"No," I said, my voice sounding like dry leaves skittering on pavement. "Sophie came to see me last time. She told me she found my real parents. Look. The address is right here. Im going to my actual home."

He froze for a split second. Then, his face darkened into a mask of fury. He snatched the paper from my hands and ripped it into a dozen pieces, tossing them into the roaring traffic of the wet highway.

"Stop this madness," he growled, grabbing my arm. "Mom and Dad are waiting. Youre coming with"

I let out a sharp, strangled scream. I wrenched myself free with a strength I didn't know I possessed and bolted into the middle of the road.

"Home... I have to go home..." I dropped to my knees on the freezing asphalt, frantically clawing at the scraps of white paper as they swirled in the wind.

Tires screeched. Horns blared like dying animals.

"Jesus! Are you trying to get killed?!" someone yelled from a car window.

Dominics face was ashen. He lunged forward, shielding me with his body as he shouted apologies to the angry drivers. He practically dragged me back to the shoulder of the road.

"Michelle!" His chest was heaving, a flicker of genuine fear in his eyes, but it was quickly eclipsed by his habitual irritation. "If you want to die, do it somewhere I don't have to watch! Using these cheap tricks for attention... the family really wasted years raising you."

I stared up at him, my mind lagging behind. I tilted my head, looking at him with genuine, quiet confusion.

"Then... when Sophie cut her wrists... was she just doing it for attention too?"

Dominic went rigid. Every muscle in his jaw locked. For the first time in my life, I saw him flinch. He couldn't meet my eyes.

There it was. Even he knew.

"Sophie." That name had been a crown of thorns around my head for as long as I could remember.

I was the fake. I was the parasite. I was the intruder.

That was why my mother fired the nanny who served me dessert first. That was why my father smashed my piano. That was why Dominic drowned the stray puppy I had rescued from the rain.

They used every choice, every moment, to prove a point: they would never let the "shining pearl" suffer a single slight just because I had been the one physically present in their lives. The scale of their hearts was always tipped in her favor, by design.

But I still didn't get it. If she had all the love, if the world was served to her on a silver platter...

Why did she have to bleed just because I beat her on a practice test?

Sophie. What on earth were you so afraid of?

2.

Dominic rubbed his temples, his frustration radiating off him in waves.

"You know Sophie isn't like you! She grew up out there, suffering. She didn't even get to finish school properly. You? You were brought into this house and given every resource, every elite tutor!"

"You had to be number one every single time? You just had to crush her? You knew it would trigger her!"

I didn't really hear him. I was shivering, trying to piece together the sodden scraps of paper in my hand.

Three pieces were missing.

"Its gone..." my voice trembled. "The address... My home is gone!"

I started to move toward the road again, desperate.

Slap!

The blow was so sudden and so sharp that my head snapped to the side. My ear rang with a high-pitched whine. Before I could recover, Dominic dragged me toward a stagnant, icy puddle by the side of the road.

"You want to die, Michelle?" He let go, pointing at the dark, freezing water. "Then jump! Go on! Stop the performance!"

With a violent sweep of his hand, he knocked the remaining scraps of paper from my grip. They fluttered like dying moths into the filthy, slushy water.

I looked at him. His eyes were full of that familiar, towering condescension.

I remembered Sophies first birthday back with us. She cried, saying the pearl necklace Dominic gave her was missing and that shed seen me in her room.

At first, I fought back. "I didn't take it! Check the security cameras"

Before I could finish, Dominic took a baseball bat and smashed the camera right in front of me.

I shut up instantly.

He was teaching me a lesson: my truth meant nothing compared to Sophies tears.

The necklace wasn't in my room. It was eventually found at the bottom of the backyard pool, the string cut, pearls scattered across the tiles.

Everyone in the family knew I had a near-death drowning experience as a child. I had severe aquaphobia. Even a full bathtub made me feel like I was suffocating.

But that winter, Dominic had me thrown into the icy pool.

"Get them," he had said. "Every single one. Don't come out until you find them all."

My parents watched Sophie sob into their shoulders and said nothing. They let it happen.

I passed out in that freezing water multiple times. Each time, theyd wake me up with more cold water until my blue, numb fingers had found every last pearl.

Since then, even the reflection of light on a water surface made me shake. Dominic knew this. He was certain I was too afraid of waterand too afraid of deathto actually jump.

He didn't know that in prison, when I used a sharpened piece of plastic to open my veins, all I felt was... peace.

The ER doctor had told the guards: She has a profound desire for self-destruction. Without a support system, she won't last.

Dominic looked at my empty, hollow eyes and smirked. "Coward. You don't even have the guts to look at the water. Think about how much Sophie must have suffered to"

He didn't finish the sentence.

I lunged forward and dove headfirst into the stinking, freezing puddle.

The water closed over my head, burning my nose and throat. Getting back to my real family was my last hope for living. If I couldn't have that, I didn't want anything else.

A second later, I was yanked out by the waist and slammed onto the muddy grass.

I coughed violently, retching up dirty water. Through the blur, I saw Dominic. He was soaked, kneeling in the mud, his hands still trembling from the force of pulling me out. He was staring at me, his pupils blown wide.

The look in his eyes wasn't disdain anymore. It was disbelief. And... something else. A flicker of raw, unadulterated terror.

I didn't understand. What was he afraid of? If the "fake" died, wasn't that what heand everyone elsewanted?

3.

I looked at the pulp in my handthe wet, gray remains of the paper where the ink had bled into illegible clouds. A wave of exhaustion, a soul-deep weariness, washed over me.

I was so tired.

If I had a knife right now, could I finally just sleep?

Dominic watched me, his voice finally losing its edge, turning soft, almost tentative.

"Michelle... why? You weren't like this before. Since when did you start taking my words so literally?"

He was right.

Since I was a toddler, hed told me: "Michelle, youre just a placeholder. Know your place. Sophie is my only sister."

Back then, Id just smile and ask him for a hug.

Later, Id study until my fingers cramped to make him his favorite snacks, only for him to sneer, "Youre so pathetic, Michelle. Sophie would never beg for affection like this."

Id still smile and hold the plate out to him.

No matter how cruel he was, the little girl I used to be followed him around like a shadow. I was convinced he just had a temper, that he didn't actually hate me.

Until Sophie came back. Then I realized what he looked like when he actually loved someone.

When Sophie and I were cornered by some older bullies in high school, he rushed in and pulled her behind him. He didn't even look at me. Not once. He just walked away with her.

His friend had pointed at me, stuck in the mud. "Hey, Dominic... what about the other one?"

"Shes not my sister."

I watched them leave. I stayed behind to face the insults and the shoves alone.

I struggled to sit up, my brain trying to conjure the ghost of the address on that paper, but the memory was fading.

"Michelle, come home. Stop this," Dominic said. It was that nauseating, self-righteous tone of "comfort" again. "The whole family is waiting. Were having Christmas dinner."

"Dominic! You aren't my brother! You have no right to tell me what to do!" I screamed, my voice raw and screeching. "I just want to go to my real home! To my real parents!"

I swung my hand and slapped him. Hard.

Dominics head snapped back. He froze, but his gaze dropped to my wrists. They were covered in a lattice of scarssome old and white, some jagged and fresh.

He turned pale. His eyes turned red in an instant.

"Michelle... your hands..." his voice shook with a sudden, sharp grief. "Did... did someone hurt you in there? I thought... I thought I paid the guards to look after you..."

He looked sad. He looked... hurt.

It was absurd. I had finally stopped chasing him, finally stopped calling him brother. What did he have to be sad about? I felt a surge of pure, physical nausea.

"Dominic," I said, my voice like dry ice. "Why are you acting like a martyr now?"

He didn't answer. He grabbed my arm and shoved me into the car, clicking the seatbelt shut with a snap.

"Were going to the hospital first," he said, his voice tight as he started the engine.

"Im not going to a hospital! Im going home! Let me out!" I thrashed against the belt, clawing at his collar, my nails leaving long, bloody furrows across his cheek.

He didn't move. He didn't fight back. He just gripped the steering wheel, jaw set, blood dripping down his face.

That silencethat suffocating, unresponsive walltriggered a memory of the solitary confinement cell. My head began to throb. The last trace of the address vanished from my mind.

I went limp. My hands fell to my sides.

He glanced at me, misinterpreting my silence. He actually managed a small, pathetic smile. "Michelle... you... you still care about me, don't you? You stopped."

I smiled back. Then, I lunged across the center console and grabbed the steering wheel, jerking it with everything I had.

If I cant go home, lets just go to hell.

SCREECH!!

The tires howled against the pavement. The car lost control, spinning and slamming into the guardrail with a bone-jarring thud.

The airbags deployed with a bang. Dominic gasped for air, blood trickling from his forehead, his eyes wide with the terror of a survivor.

He turned to see the look on my face. I wasn't scared. I was disappointed.

"Michelle... do you... do you want to die that badly?"

I didn't answer. I just stared at him with dead eyes. He swallowed hard, his voice dropping to a whisper, a desperate plea.

"Fine. Okay. No hospital. Well go home, okay? Just... just stay with me."

I lowered my eyes and gave a tiny, almost imperceptible "okay."

Dominics shoulders slumped in relief. He thought I was being "good" again.

He didn't know.

I just remembered: Sophie knows where my real home is.

I was going back to find her.

4.

The Blackwood estate was glowing with warmth and festive lights.

When we pushed through the front doors, the scent of pine and expensive candles hit me. Sophie was sitting on the sofa in a designer dress, her cheeks flushed with health, leaning into our mothers side.

"Mom, Im only back for a few days. You didn't have to make such a fuss," Sophie chirped.

Our father was sitting nearby, patiently peeling shrimp for her, his eyes full of adoration. "The Dean called. He said you won another award. Our Sophie is so talented; of course we have to celebrate."

It was a picture-perfect scene of domestic bliss.

Dominic cleared his throat, his jaw tight. "Mom, Dad. I brought Michelle back."

The laughter died instantly.

Three pairs of eyes swung toward us. First to me, then to Dominics soaked clothes and the bloody scratches on his face.

My parents' brows furrowed in unison.

Sophie was the first to stand. She walked toward me, her voice dripping with that "concerned older sister" act shed perfected.

"Michelle, Dominic went out in the snow to get you personally. How could you do this to him?" She sighed, playing the part of the mature one. "Youre college-aged now. Cant you be a little more sensible? Must you always make the family worry?"

My mothers face hardened. "Michelle, this is unacceptable. Your brother just got over a cold."

My father let out a cold snort. "She was always a troublemaker. Fighting in high school, coming home bruised... I suppose two years with criminals only made it worse"

"Enough."

Dominics voice was sharp, cutting through my father's sentence. He looked at Sophie, his expression unusually stern. "I did this to myself. It wasn't Michelle."

He paused, then added, "And Sophie? Michelle never went to college. Maybe think before you speak next time."

The room went tomb-silent.

They stared at him, shocked. Dominicthe golden sonhad never once defended the "fake" sister, let alone snapped at his precious Sophie.

Sophies eyes filled with tears instantly. Her lip wobbled. "Fine! Shes the sister you grew up with, and Im just the outsider! I don't have the right to speak to her! Im sorry I even came back!"

Dominic looked conflicted, his gaze flickering away.

My mother rushed to Sophie, pulling her into a protective embrace. "Dominic! How could you speak to her like that?!" Then she turned her venomous gaze on me. "And you, Michelle! You just get back and youre already upsetting your sister. Why are you so selfish?"

I looked at this womandripping in diamonds, her face twisted with habitual annoyance toward meand the word "Mom" died in my throat.

She wasn't my mother. It made sense that she hated me.

"Lets just eat," my father sighed, trying to break the tension. "Your brother made us wait for hours just for you. Sophie is starving."

I looked up. "Did I ask her to wait?"

I didn't wait for a reply. "Dominic made that choice. It has nothing to do with me."

Sophies eyes went wide. "Michelle! Have you lost your mind? How dare you talk to him like that!"

"Hes not my brother," I said, my voice steady and clear. "Hes your brother."

I looked at them all. "I didn't come here to eat."

I turned to Sophie. "I came to ask for the address. My parents' address."

"Once I have it, Im gone. I won't ruin your family reunion anymore."

The color drained from Sophies face.

My mother frowned. "What are you talking about? This is your home."

"I mean my real home. My biological parents," I said, staring Sophie down. "You told me in prison that you found them. You gave me a note. I lost it. Give it to me again. Now."

The air in the living room turned to ice. My parents looked at Sophie, their expressions turning unreadable.

Sophie stammered, "Isn't... isn't this family good enough? Why do you have to look for"

"I have to!" I was shaking now, my voice rising to a scream. "I want to go home! I want my own parents! Let me go!!"

Dominic couldn't take it anymore. He turned to our parents, his voice exploding with repressed rage.

"Just tell her! Tell her the truth! We agreed, didn't we? We were going to give her the 'surprise' when she got out!"

I looked at him, confused. He wouldn't look back.

As the eldest son, Dominic held weight in this house. My parents exchanged a look. Finally, my mother sighed. She looked at me, her voice suddenly forced, sweet, like she was talking to a frightened animal.

"Michelle... sweetheart. The truth is... you are our biological daughter."