Our family had two daughters: me and Charlotte. But honestly, Charlotte was always the golden girl in my parents eyes, and they never bothered to hide it. Their favouritism began when Charlotte was barely out of nappies. She got all the best thingsdesigner dresses, new bikes, and shiny shoeswhile I was stuck with second-hand sweaters and whatever was left behind. To top it all off, Charlotte looked just like Mum and Dad, boasting the sort of beauty you see on TV adverts. I, meanwhile, resembled my dads uncle George, who, lets say, wouldnt win any modelling contests. Mum and Dad even referred to me as the little ugly ducklingand not in that sweet, fairytale way.
After finishing secondary school, my parents bought Charlotte a flat in central Manchester and immediately started refurbishing it. Me? I was packed off to live with Gran in her rather tired three-bedroom place. Not exactly Downton Abbey material.
Around this time, Gran became seriously ill and I found myself dashing home after classes to be her nurse, chef, and emotional support. One evening, Gran confided to mebetween sips of teathat she intended to leave her flat to Mum and Dad. I begged my parents for help, struggling alone with the situation, but they claimed they were far too busy refitting Charlottes new flat. Just before she passed away, Gran revealed shed squirreled away a tidy sum of money just for me. She urged me to keep it secret and use it for myself, away from my parents watchful eyes. After the funeral, Mum and Dad embarked on a CSI: Greater Manchester hunt, turning Grans flat upside down for the cash. They never found a penny.
By the time theyd finished looking, Id already bought my own cosy two-bedroom flat and started to put my personal touches on it. Still, I stayed at Grans house for a bit longer. Two months later, Mum and Dad decided they were going to rent Grans flat to help Charlottebecause her sister (yours truly) was struggling financially. Naturally, I asked if I could have my own place. Mum said, Youre an adult now. Go make your own way. So I did.
When my flat was finally ready, I moved in, met a lovely boyfriend, and our relationship got quite serious. But as soon as my parents found out Id bought a flat (with Grans secret stash), they labelled me a thief. After enduring several rounds of family drama and name-calling, I finally told them to jog on and cut ties altogether. And you know what? My life became a lot quieterand much more cheerful.
