Fame

She was prettier,

She was smarter,

She was better at everything,

She was undefeatable,

She was the favorite child.

In surpassing contrast, I acquire barely any of these. My short, wavy, brown hair was always in a mess in comparison to the soft, jet-black hair that flowed to my sister’s slender waist. Her compelling and vivid forest green orbs were perfect for convincing even stone etch intricately as a heart. My dull, average brown eyes, though, never seemed to be noticed much less cared about. Some would suppose that my family revolved around me as I was the child that closed her womb but in reality, I became a nobody the moment my older sister stepped into the room.

I’m not jealous of Veronica; at least I think I’m not. The cause of our unending rivalry was not just the fact that she was better at everything; it’s that she tries to be the best at everything that I endeavor to do. The annual Summer Cove essay that she swore to be uninterested in suddenly became her major goal as soon as I announced my desired participation. Silly and unserious crushes, pretty dresses, invited social gatherings. She surpassed me in literally everything that I had set my mind to, thus, grooming in the thick shadow of her announced presence.

Her crystal glowing skin made heads constantly turn her direction; she looked perfect for her age with practically “perfect body”- obviously not my words. She constantly dragged me into insecurity because I wasn’t as pretty as everybody thought she was. The first time she grounded me with the heart piercing words; “you’re ugly”, I refused to take it under consideration until reality roughly hit me and I came to see that people felt the same way about me. Compliments that rolled easily off their tongues at the mere sight of her felt so falsified and faked when it came to me.

I got used to it, though, and completely relegated into the background until my presence could not be told. I stopped participating in classes, stuck to the little friends that I managed to acquire and stopped attending social events - most of my days were spent in the comfort of my room. Of course tears could not solve my immediate problems but it helped in driving me faster into sleep. Talking, on the other hand was a nightmare, what others tended to hear was that I don’t have abusive parents and I have the perfect sister so I’m just jealous and ungrateful. To everyone, I had just always been an attention seeker.

Finding no escape, I sheltered behind closed doors, music and books. Romance novels particularly, serving at a constant reminder of a future I could at least imaging for myself – where the socially unstable girl is made precious in the eyes of the popular, unruly bad boy. I would also sing for hours until my parents returned from a tough day’s work of showing off their daughter.

Lost in one of my many slow, relatable songs, I wandered into my sister’s room, singing my heart out. I music was all that I could hear as my body and voice did their best to add to the wonderful experience. I felt magical until my earpiece was forcefully abducted from the solace of my ears by Veronica. Just moments later, father bursts into the room; where my sister was well prepared to throw one of her tantrums. He begged to hear the “perfect voice” once more. For the first time in a long time, I felt seen but of course he was forced into the thought that I could never have such a good voice and to my horror, although none to my surprise, she took the credit.

Now I stand amidst the thick crowd as they cheered loudly on for Veronica who was confidently on the stage performing to a record of my voice, lip syncing. One day, hopefully, I’ll be able to regain everything that was snatched away from my loose grip. The recognition, the praise and now the fame.

A/N: My first story on vocal. I really hope my lovely readers can relate to the feeling of being invisible. Please support my page as more stories will be rolling in.

Much love,

Bigbookworm.