Reclaiming My Own Life

ifted up the stairs. I could hear my parents talking in the kitchen, their voices low and normal. It

eeded to get to my morning class. When I walked into the kitc

e said without looking

s," I

grunted a hello. Lily was nowhere to be seen, proba

y hands shaking slightly. I needed

nity came u

her phone down. "My phone' s about to die. Can you look up the address fo

e it was

," I lied smoothly.

t there. The passcode

he gut. Lily' s birthday. Not min

ribs. I typed in the four digits, and the screen unlock

inned to the top of

o." The participants were "Mo

. My breath caught in m

f them out to dinner at a restaurant they told me they were too tired t

g the words that blurred throu

hundred bucks for her books. Wh

at the library isn't exactly hi

me with my homework last night. So bor

e gets that from your si

you to chip in for the property t

to me. It was a message about me, a reminder for them to ask me fo

the coast, a trip I knew nothing about. They had told me they were spending the weekend at home, dee

active, sustained effort to create a life that I was not a pa

water heater. For the car repairs. For Lily' s braces. For Lily' s field trip to Wash

y ATM, the reliable utility they could tap whenever they ne

the phone. I had to do something. I couldn' t just

screenshotted, over and over. Their jokes, their financial planning at my expense, their casua

eleted every trace. I deleted the screenshots from her photo gallery, from the "recently d

browser and looked up the b

oice surprisingly steady. I placed th

other said, picking it up

y phone, a cold, hard confirmation of a truth I had always felt but never had the courage to face. They didn't love me. They used me. And now I had t