No Longer My Sister’s Shield

My younger sister Ella had a rare disease.

The slightest touch would leave her covered in bruises, and a fall could shatter her bones completely.

She was our family's porcelain doll.

Growing up, the words I heard most often were that I had to protect Ella at all costs.

So when she fell down the stairs right in front of me, I didn't hesitate to throw myself beneath her.

Ella was fine.

But I broke my leg and would be confined to a wheelchair for the rest of my life.

After that, the words I heard most often changed to:

"Anna, Ella will be grateful to you."

My parents' praise made me even more devoted to protecting Ella.

But after I protected Ella yet again, strange text appeared before my eyes.

[Actually, Anna is pretty pitiful. She's protected Ella for so many years, and she'll die still believing Ella really is a "porcelain doll."]

[This is her fate---destined to be nothing but a tool to protect Ella!]

I didn't believe this nonsense.

Until the day Ella fell and there was no swelling, no bleeding.

She got up like nothing happened and sighed:

"How much longer do I have to keep up this porcelain doll act!"

My deformed fingers unconsciously gripped the wheelchair armrest.

That was from when Ella was three and ran into the street to grab a toy.

I saved her but got run over by an electric scooter.

Three of my fingers were nearly crushed and could never bend again.

But even then, I hadn't protected Ella well enough.

Her knee scraped against the gravel road, blood flowing freely.

When my mother arrived, she didn't even glance at me, rushing Ella straight to the hospital.

By the time she remembered me, the doctor said it was too late.

My fingers would never bend again.

Even so, my mother punished me when we got home.

"Anna, can't you put more effort into protecting Ella!"

I don't remember what the punishment was.

My mother had too many different ways to punish me.

But that disappointed shout and the pain of my broken fingers remained crystal clear in my memory.

After that, I protected Ella even more recklessly.

My gaze moved from my twisted fingers to Ella in the distance.

At home, she always sat quietly on the sofa.

Couldn't run, couldn't jump.

Carefully playing her role as a "porcelain doll."

But now she was jumping freely to reach the leaves overhead.

Chasing butterflies back and forth.

Her pale arms scraped against tree branches.

No bruises. No bleeding.

Just a faint red mark that quickly disappeared.

Ella had said, "How much longer do I have to keep up this porcelain doll act?"

So she really was like those comments said---she wasn't sick at all.

[To get Anna's protection, Ella has really suffered.]

[Playing "porcelain doll" at home every day must be suffocating.]

I lowered my eyes.

So this was what Ella called suffering?

When I looked up again, a familiar figure appeared beside Ella.

I couldn't help but sit up straighter.

Did my mother know Ella was faking?

The next second, I saw my mother gently tap Ella, her tone reproachful:

"What if Anna sees you like this?"

My breath caught.

Ella pouted impatiently:

"I've been pretending for fifteen years."

"I'm so tired. Can't you just stop having Anna pick me up from school? I can get home by myself."

She clung to my mother's arm, acting cute.

In the past, my mother always gave in when Ella acted cute.

But this time she shook her head, her tone leaving no room for argument:

"No. There are too many dangers on the way to and from school. Anna must protect you!"

I looked down at my broken body.

Ella's muttering drifted over:

"I'm not really a porcelain doll. Can't I just relax for this little bit of time?"

My mother rarely put on a stern face, even her tone becoming heavy:

"I said no and I mean it. You're a porcelain doll in my eyes, and you can't get hurt at all!"

Their voices gradually faded into the distance.

I stood behind the tree, almost turning into a statue.

Only when their figures disappeared around the corner did I slowly move my eyes.

So it was all fake.

They'd lied to me, tricked me into recklessly protecting Ella for fifteen years.

When I got home, cheerful laughter drifted hazily from inside.

The moment the key entered the lock, all sound stopped.

I struggled to wheel myself through the door.

Despite being extremely careful, I almost fell to the floor.

I'd begged my mother so many times to have someone remove the threshold at the entrance.

She always said okay, okay, okay.

But no one ever came.

Yet the foam padding on every corner of the house was replaced within a minute if even a single piece was missing.

Thinking of what I'd just witnessed, I opened my mouth, my voice hoarse as I called out, "Mother."

No one answered.

When I looked up, I found my mother staring coldly at me.

She demanded:

"Why didn't you pick Ella up just now?"

"Do you know Ella almost got hit by a car on her way home! If I hadn't happened to be there, Ella would be in the hospital right now!"

I looked at my mother's face, flushed red with anger.

I thought inappropriately that my mother really understood me well.

Every time she said something like this, I would protect Ella even more carefully out of guilt.

Even those floating comments knew it.

[This trick of my mother's never fails. Brilliant!]

[After she says this, I feel like Anna would use her life to protect Ella next time.]

Once a habit forms, it becomes automatic.

I was stunned by my own "I'm sorry."

But my mother's lips curved with satisfaction, seeming pleased with her tactic.

"Since you know you were wrong, go bring Ella's dinner over right now!"

For the first time, I stayed rooted in place.

I opened my mouth, wanting to ask why they lied to me.

But I never dared to speak.

Finally, I said softly:

"I'm not feeling well. I want to go to my room to rest..."

My mother froze.

This was the first time I hadn't obeyed her.

After recovering, she furrowed her brow and raised her voice: "Go bring Ella's dinner over, then you can rest!"

Their eyes both fell on me, the cripple.

Various chaotic emotions tangled together.

I ignored my mother and turned my wheelchair around to head to my room.

But my mother grabbed me.

Her expression was ugly:

"Anna, what's wrong with you today!"

"You didn't pick up Ella, and now I ask you to bring Ella her dinner and you won't do it. Are you trying to kill her!"

My gaze swept across the distance from the living room to the kitchen---less than thirty feet.

Even if Ella really was a "porcelain doll," what could possibly happen?

My mother followed my gaze and said coldly:

"Have you forgotten how Ella got that scar on her head!"

I hadn't forgotten. Of course I hadn't forgotten.

That was the first time I came home in a wheelchair after breaking my leg.

Ella went to get her own dinner and tripped.

I couldn't reach her in time.

Ella's head hit the floor, bleeding profusely.

My mother and father nervously took her to the hospital.

They were gone for half a month.

I was forgotten.

I could only sit in my wheelchair, struggling to make food for myself.

I slept in my wheelchair for that entire half month.

But when they came back, the first thing my mother and father did was blame me for not protecting Ella well enough.

I raised my head, my eyes filled with a calm close to death:

"I'm really tired."

The pulling force disappeared.

My mother instinctively let go.

It wasn't until I returned to my room and closed the door that her dissatisfied muttering drifted over faintly.

[Anna is really strange today.]

[Could she have found out that Ella being a porcelain doll is fake!]

I ignored the shocked comments.

My gaze swept across mine and Ella's room.

Bunk beds.

She had the bottom, I had the top.

Because my mother was afraid she'd be in danger climbing the ladder.

I rubbed the thick calluses on my palms.

All these years I'd relied on these hands to climb up and down.

At first, I fell countless times.

I'd asked my mother many times to change to two single beds, but it always came to nothing.

It seemed like my requests were never fulfilled.

The comments paused for a moment.

[Don't you think Anna is kind of pitiful?]

[Pitiful? She's just a tool to protect Ella. That's her mission.]

I smiled bitterly.

The front door opened and closed.

My father was home.

His first words were usually to ask about Ella.

Then, after noticing I wasn't shadowing and protecting Ella as usual, he'd ask about me.

It wasn't hard to guess what my mother would tell my father.

The bedroom door was soon knocked on.

"Anna, come out. I have something to say to you."

I didn't respond.

My father quickly lost patience.

The door was pushed open forcefully, slamming into the cabinet behind it.

That was the only space in the entire room that belonged to me.

From the impact, the dance costume and shoes hanging on the cabinet fell to the floor.

My father didn't even look before stepping on them.

It lay quietly on the ground.

Just like me.

"Anna, what kind of tantrum are you throwing today?" my father's voice was heavy.

He was truly angry.

My mother snorted coldly behind him:

"This girl must be resentful because we keep making her protect Ella!"

My father immediately put on a stern face, looking at me disapprovingly:

"Anna, you're the older sister. Isn't it natural for you to protect Ella?"

"What's more, Ella is a porcelain doll!"

What about my father?

Did my father know Ella's illness was fake?

The question was almost on my lips, but my father's voice drowned everything out.

"Your mother says you're tired. What's so tiring about sitting in a wheelchair all day?"

My heart suddenly felt hollow.

The answer didn't seem to matter anymore.

I pressed my lips together, silently enduring my parents' barrage of accusations.

Finally, they seemed tired of talking and looked at me with confusion.

Probably wondering why I'd suddenly changed.

My mother's eyes were ice-cold:

"Fine, be stubborn. You don't get any steak either!"

Being denied food was too normal a punishment.

After going hungry enough times, I guess I got used to it.

They turned and left the living room without closing the door.

The three of them laughed and chatted happily at the dinner table.

The comments weren't as active as before.

[Anna's silhouette is making me cry.]

[It's okay, it's okay. Tomorrow Anna's nightmare as a tool will end. After she saves Ella on stage and ends up bedridden, my parents will feel too guilty to make Anna protect Ella anymore.]

I stared at the comment before me for a long time, then laughed.

Was it because of guilt?

It was clearly because I'd be bedridden and unable to protect Ella anymore.

The next day was the anniversary celebration at Ella's school.

This wasn't my first time attending an event at her school.

In fact, I'd been to every one.

Whenever Ella went on stage, I had to be by her side.

Because my parents worried there might be danger on stage.

And because my broken leg forced me to drop out of school.

So I was always especially happy to hear I could go to Ella's school.

On the way there, I used to excitedly ask Ella all kinds of questions.

But I only ever got perfunctory answers.

Today I was unusually silent.

My mother glanced at me through the rearview mirror:

"It's been a whole night, Anna. Have you figured it out?"

My father's sharp eyes also locked onto me through the mirror:

"If you still haven't come to your senses, your mother and I will just pretend we don't have a daughter like you!"

I looked out the window, taking a long time before responding.

"I've figured it out."

I seemed to hear all three of them sigh with relief.

They automatically assumed I meant I'd continue protecting Ella properly from now on.

My mother turned around with a beaming smile:

"I knew my Anna was the most obedient!"

My father's gloomy expression also brightened:

"That's my good daughter!"

"In a while, I'll change those bunk beds in your room to single beds."

So the reason they'd refused to change the beds all along was for today.

To reward me after I became their tool once again.

Ella ate the snacks my mother had made for her and smiled sweetly.

"Then thank you in advance, Anna."

In the past, I would have ruffled Ella's hair and told her it was no problem.

And secretly been pleased by my parents' praise.

But today I only managed a stiff twitch of my lips before turning to look out the window again.

At school events, Ella usually performed ballet.

After I broke my leg, my mother immediately signed Ella up for classes.

Under the stage lights, Ella was like an elegant white swan.

Her skin was smooth and fair.

Not even a tiny scar anywhere on her body.

Below the stage, besides the amazed gazes falling on Ella, there were also disgusted glances occasionally cast my way.

"They're from the same mother---how can the difference be so huge?"

"The ugly duckling and the swan, literally!"

"Why does Anna have to be on stage? To be laughed at?"

The disdainful comments stabbed into my ears like little knives.

Just like every time before.

Except before, my mind was full of protecting Ella, so I never took these hurtful words to heart.

I looked across the distance at my parents.

They heard them but acted as if they didn't.

Their proud gazes remained fixed only on Ella.

Never once speaking up for me.

The comments before my eyes suddenly began scrolling frantically.

[Here it comes, here it comes! The chandelier is about to fall!]

[Anna, get ready! You have to save Ella!]

I looked up at the dazzling chandelier overhead.

Sure enough, just like the comments said, it was swaying slightly.

And Ella, taking her bows on stage, was directly beneath it.

I slowly turned my wheelchair amid my parents' applause and cheers.

The next second, the chandelier fell.

I looked up and met my parents' horrified expressions.