My Spoiled Sister Bullies Me

I was targeted and bullied by the scholarship student my parents sponsoredlocked in a bathroom, doused with cold water, and photographed naked.

When I came to my parents crying with my medical report and audio recordings, begging them to call the police, they confiscated my phone instead for the sake of their ridiculous "reputation."

"Lily, Claire's family is poor. This is just kids horsing around. If we call the police, the media will say we're big-shot prosecutors abusing our power, ruining a student from a disadvantaged background."

"You're our daughteryou need to be magnanimous, to have perspective. To avoid any appearance of impropriety, we'll settle this privately. Write her a letter of understanding."

I stared in disbelief at that letter filled with so-called "perspective."

"She destroyed me, but you're afraid of destroying her?"

"She's your real daughter, isn't she?"

I saw the post Claire shared on Instagramphotos of my parents taking her to the seafood feast I'd begged for months to try, captioned:

"My parents say some princesses just need to be put in their place."

In that moment, my heart died completely.

"Lily, smile! Aren't your parents big-shot prosecutors?"

"Have them come save you! Let's see if they protect you or metheir model poverty case."

The bathroom stall door slammed open. A bucket of ice water mixed with cigarette ash poured over my head.

I huddled by the toilet, soaked to the bone, my uniform plastered to my skin.

Claire held up her phone, the camera lens shoved almost into my face, the flash so bright I couldn't open my eyes.

I bit down hard on my lip, the taste of blood filling my mouth.

That evening, I knelt on the marble floor of our living room, clutching my medical report and voice recorder.

"Mr. Sterling, I need to report this to the police. Claire took photos of my..."

"Shut up."

Rachel wore her crisp uniform, holding a cup of freshly brewed tea, not even looking up.

"Go change your clothes. You smell terrible. What a disgrace."

I looked up in disbelief, my knees aching against the hard floor.

"Ms. Rachel, this is evidence! She held me underwater. She's going to post it online..."

Dad sat in his usual spot on the sofa, an unlit cigarette between his fingers.

He finally looked at me, his eyes cold.

"Lily, give me your phone."

I handed it over with trembling hands.

The next second, he expertly powered it off, pulled out the SIM card, and tossed it into the ashtray in front of him.

"Starting today, your phone is confiscated. You'll stay home and reflect on your behavior."

I jerked my head up.

"Why? I'm the victim! Mr. Sterling, listen to the recordingshe was humiliating me..."

"I said shut up!"

Dad slammed his hand on the table, making the teacup rattle.

He stood and walked over to me.

"Call the police? Do you know what that means?"

"What will the media write? 'Prosecutor's daughter abuses power, destroys poor student's future.'"

"Claire's family is poor. Her father is paralyzed. She's the city's model of perseverance and self-improvement."

"What matters more to usour reputation or your little grievance?"

I opened my mouth, but my throat was dry. No sound came out.

My grievance? Being photographed naked, having my head shoved in a toiletin his mouth, that was just a "little grievance."

Mom set down her teacup and walked over.

"Lily, you need to be reasonable. In our position, countless eyes are watching us."

"Claire has it hard too. She's just a bit aggressive, trying to get attention."

"You're the older one. You need to have perspective. To avoid any appearance of impropriety, this must be settled privately."

She pulled a sheet of paper from her briefcase and pushed it in front of me.

"Letter of Understanding."

Party A: Lily. Party B: Claire.

The content stated: This was horseplay between classmates. Party A will not pursue charges and waives all legal claims.

Dad handed me a fountain pen.

"Sign it. Don't make us force you."

I stared at that penthe one I'd given him when he was promoted to Chief Prosecutor.

"What if I don't sign?"

Dad let out a cold laugh.

"Don't sign? Then you'll take a leave from school. We'll send you to stay with Grandpa in the countryside."

"Either way, without my approval, no case will be filed. No one will dare take it."

These were my parents.

For their pristine image, for their so-called "reputation," they were willing to sacrifice their own daughter.

My hand trembled as I took the pen.

The tip tore across the paper as I signed my name.

Mom collected the document with satisfaction, her face brightening with a smile.

"That's better. Mom knew you'd be reasonable. Are you hungry? I'll make dinner."

"No need."

I pushed myself up from the floor, my knees numb.

Back in my room, I dug out my backup tablet.

Half an hour later, a notification popped up on Instagram.

It was Claire's post.

A grid of nine photos.

Giant king crab, Australian lobster, and two hands raising glasses in a toast.

One wore Mom's diamond ring, the other Dad's watch.

Location tagged: Ocean Cloud Restaurant.

Caption: "My parents said they'd treat me to calm my nerves. Some princesses just need to be put in their place."

"Thanks, Ms. Rachel and Mr. Sterling! Love you!"

I stared at those words, my stomach churning.

So "making dinner" actually meant they had reservations all along, taking my abuser out to celebrate.

I rushed to the bathroom and vomited into the toilet.

In the mirror, my face was deathly pale, my lip still split.

While on my phone screen, the three of them looked like a perfect happy family.

Since you love this "daughter" so much...

Then I won't be your real daughter anymore.

I woke before dawn.

I dragged out my dusty suitcase and started packing.

The closet was full of designer clothes Mom had bought.

I didn't take a single piece.

Just packed a few pilled T-shirts and two pairs of faded jeans.

I smashed open my piggy bankeighteen hundred dollars inside.

When I dragged the suitcase downstairs, the smell of food filled the dining room.

The table was set with pan-fried buns and millet porridge.

Mom was untying her apron, her brow furrowing.

"What are you doing dragging a suitcase around at the crack of dawn? All that noiseit's deafening."

Dad sat at the table reading the newspaper, not looking up.

"Put the suitcase back and come eat. Claire's coming over today. Don't you dare put on that dead-fish face."

Claire. How affectionate.

I left the suitcase by the entrance and stood at the door.

"I'm not eating. And I don't want to see her."

Mom slammed down her chopsticks.

"Lily! What tantrum are you throwing now? Didn't we settle everything yesterday?"

"Claire already apologized. You signed the understanding. It's over."

"How can you be so petty?"

"Petty?"

I pointed to my head.

"Ms. Rachel, I have a mild concussion."

"My photos are still on her phone, but you took her out for king crab."

"This is your perspective?"

Dad threw down his newspaper, his face dark.

"You're spying on us?"

"Posting on Instagram is meant to be seen, isn't it?"

"Enough!"

Dad stood up, pointing at the door.

"You want to leave? Fine! You've got spine!"

"Once you walk out that door, don't come back! I'll act like I never had a daughter!"

"Leave your cards, phone, keyseverything!"

I pulled the house key from my pocket and tossed it on the shoe cabinet.

It made a sharp clinking sound.

"You took my phone yesterday."

"I didn't bring my bank cardsthey're all in the drawer."

"As for this house..."

I looked around at the lavishly decorated mansion.

"Keep it for Claire. After all, she's more your blood than I am."

"How dare you!"

Mom grabbed the teacup from the table and hurled it at me.

It smashed against the doorframe, shards flying, one grazing my cheek.

A line of blood seeped out.

"And one more thingdon't ever say you're doing this for my own good."

"You only love yourselves and that hypocritical facade."

I grabbed the suitcase handle and pushed open the security door.

Behind me, Dad roared.

"Get out! Let her go! She'll come crawling back crying in three days!"

I didn't look back.

Three days? I'll never beg you for anything again. Not in this lifetime.

The place I found was in an old tenement building in the city's rundown district.

I'd barely set my things down when the tablet buzzed.

An unknown FaceTime request.

I hesitated, then answered.

Claire's face filled the screen.

The background was our living room. She sat in my beanbag chairthe one I never let anyone touch.

She held my limited-edition figurine in her hands.

"Oh, Lily! Heard you ran away from home?"

Her voice was sickeningly sweet.

Ms. Rachel said you have a temper, told me not to bother with you."

"But this figurine is really nice. Ms. Rachel said I could have it. You don't mind, right?"

*Snap.*

She snapped it with force. The figurine's head broke off.

She covered her mouth in mock surprise.

"Oops, my hand slipped. You're not mad, are you?"

Mom's voice came from the background:

"Claire, don't worry about that trash. If it's broken, throw it out. I'll buy you a new one."

My fingers gripping the tablet turned white.

That figurineI'd saved for half a year to buy it.

It was my only comfort in that house.

I took a deep breath and smiled at the screen.

"I don't mind."

"Trash deserves trash. Pretty fitting."

"Oh, and that beanbag you're sitting on? I used to keep a dog. The dog peed on it."

Claire's face changed. She jumped up.

"You're lying! There was never a dog in the house!"

"Believe what you want."

I hung up the video.

Staring at the black screen, I slumped onto the dusty floor.

My stomach rumbled.

The real test was just beginning.

I applied for a leave of absence.

The academic advisor looked at my medical report, sighed, and didn't ask questions.

Without a degree, I could only work night shifts at a convenience store and take cheap translation gigs during the day.

Three days after leaving home, I came down with a fever.

I wanted to go to the hospital, but I only had two hundred dollars left.

I forced down tap water and made myself swallow an expired pack of cold medicine.

As long as I didn't die, I'd watch them fall.

Two weeks later, I had no choice but to go back to campus.

My backpack held my laptop and important documents.

I'd just reached the building when a group surrounded me.

"Well, well, if it isn't our prosecutor's princess!"

Claire stood on the steps, looking down at me.

She wore a cream-colored cashmere coatthe new one Mom bought in Hong Kong last month.

"Why are you dressed like that? Those pants are from a street market, aren't they?"

Claire walked down, reaching out to tug at my sleeve.

"Lily, you look pathetic. Ms. Rachel said you were living wild out there. I didn't believe it."

"Guess it's true. You can't even afford decent clothes?"

Students around us whispered and pointed.

I slapped Claire's hand away, staring at her.

"You stole that coat, didn't you?"

Claire's face stiffened, then she raised her voice.

"What are you talking about! Ms. Rachel lent it to me!"

"I have a speech competitionrepresenting the school. Ms. Rachel didn't want me to freeze."

Her eyes shifted, and suddenly she grabbed my backpack strap.

"Wait! I just lost five hundred dollars!"

"You must have stolen it! You're desperate nowyou were lurking around me just now!"

"Search her! Open the backpack!"

Her lackeys immediately surrounded me, jeering.

I clutched my backpack tight.

"Back off! I didn't steal anything!"

In the scuffle, Claire's sharp nails raked across the back of my hand.

Blood welled up instantly.

"What's going on here!"

The dean rushed over with several people.

Walking behind them were my parents.

They carried thermal containersclearly coming to bring Claire soup again.

Mom rushed over, shoving me aside and pulling Claire into her arms.

"Claire, what happened? Are you hurt?"

Dad walked up to me.

"Lily! How much more are you going to embarrass yourself?"

"Coming to school to steal? You've disgraced the entire family!"

I held up my bleeding hand.

"Mr. Sterling, which eye of yours saw me steal?"

"Even in court you need evidence. You're convicting me without even asking?"

Dad's face flushed red.

"Then why would Claire accuse you and not someone else?"

"You must have sticky fingers!"

Claire nestled in Mom's arms, voice tearful.

" Mr. Sterling, maybe I remembered wrong... but Lily was really mean just now..."

"It's okay. Ms. Rachel will handle this."

Mom glared at me.

"Lily, open your backpack. Let everyone check and prove your innocence."

"If you didn't steal, apologize to Claire and we'll drop it."

Looking at my parents' "for your own good" expressions, I couldn't take it anymore.

I yanked the backpack zipper open and turned it upside down.

Everything spilled outbooks, charger, my old laptop covered in stickers.

My worn wallet fell out, containing only a few crumpled bills.

"See it clearly? Where's the five hundred dollars?"

My eyes were red as I pointed at my scattered belongings.

"Search! Isn't that what you wanted?"

The crowd went silent.

Claire shrank back.

"Well... maybe I left it in the classroom."

"Just 'maybe I forgot' and that's it?"

I stepped closer.

"You accused me of theft, violated my privacyisn't that bullying?"

"Enough!"

Dad snapped.

He looked at the growing crowd of onlookers, his brow furrowed.

He strode over and grabbed my wrist.

"Stop making a scene. Get in the car."

He lowered his voice.

"If you have something to say, say it at home. Don't let outsiders laugh at us."

Mom caught on too, explaining to the crowd.

"Kids these daysteenage rebellion. Everyone, please disperse."

They flanked me, trying to drag me toward the Audi A6 at the gate.

I grabbed the iron railing and held on tight.

"I'm not going back! Let go!"

Dad hissed in my ear through gritted teeth:

"Keep making a scene and I'll have you committed to a psychiatric hospital!"

Psychiatric hospital.

For his reputation, he'd lock his own daughter in an asylum.

I laughed.

"You want to save face?"

I took a deep breath and screamed with everything I had:

"Help! The prosecutor is trying to kill someone! My own parents are trying to drive their daughter to death!"

The crowd froze.

Even the security guard at the gate poked his head out.

Dad's face went white. He instinctively released his grip.

"You're insane!"

He snarled quietly, veins bulging on his forehead.

Mom panicked, trying to maintain her dignified image.

"Lily, what are you talking about! When have your parents ever pressured you?"

I didn't give her a chance, pointing at the Audi.

"You wanted me in that car to drag me somewhere private and punish me, didn't you?"

"Just like when you forced me to sign that letter of understanding!"

"For your reputation, you protected my bully Claire and forced me, the victim, to apologize on my knees!"

"Now that I've left home, you're chasing me to school to accuse me of theft?"

The murmurs exploded.

"What? Letter of understanding?"

"Claire's bullying was real?"

Countless eyes turned toward Victor Sterling and Rachel.

Dad's hands trembled. He wanted to lunge at me but seeing all the phones raised around us, he didn't dare.

He stared at me, forcing words through his teeth:

"Lily, if you don't come with me today, I'll freeze all your accounts. You won't even be able to afford school!"

I laughed coldly and pulled a folding fruit knife from my pocket.

"Don't move."

I pressed the blade against my own throat.

The crowd gasped.

Mom screamed: "Lily! What are you doing! Put it down!"

"Scared?"

"You're not afraid I'll dieyou're afraid I'll die here and soil your official robes."

"Victor Sterling, Rachellisten carefully."

"From today on, I'm severing our parent-child relationship."

"Whatever debt I owed you for raising me was paid in full the day you forced me to sign that letter."

"Now take your daughter and get out!"

I pushed the blade forward. The skin broke. Blood trickled down.