I HATE HER

I HATE HER
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, JENNY!”
Everyone coos at the end of the song and Jenny cuts her cake, all smiles. Mum and Dad struggle between themselves to shower her with kisses and all the aunties, uncles, cousins and friends are busy taking pictures. I couldn’t care less. I just want this party to be over so I could go back upstairs and continue the horror movie I was watching. I am not enjoying the party at all and I only left my room because Mum seemed mortified when I told her I didn’t want to attend.
Since Jenny was born, she had stolen everything from me. Mum and Dad, Uncle Tom, Aunty Rita, my dolls, my clothes, my friends inclusive. When she was little, I had a sleepover with my friends and they just couldn’t stop drooling over Jenny. As she grew, so did her fame. Today was her twelfth birthday and Mum and Dad were throwing her a party. It would have been almost as flashy as her first birthday party, but rain clouds gathered in the sky around noon and in less than an hour, the rain poured down mercilessly and everyone had to get into the house and continue the party in the living room. I was so glad and I thanked God for sending the rain. The only party I had celebrated was my first and second birthday and my graduation from pre-nursery. On my thirteenth birthday, Dad took all of us out and we ate ice cream and that was it. Meanwhile, Jenny got to have fun filled birthday parties with glittery dresses and fancy invitations. Sometimes I feel like I’m adopted, but everyone say I share a striking resemblance with my Dad, so there’s no questioning my paternity.
The music began playing and the guests begin to move to the adjoining balcony to dance. Someone hugs me from behind and says,
“Dance with me!” I recognize the voice almost immediately and with all force in me, I push her away. She bumps into the table of drinks and the bottles come crashing down, shattering into pieces and spilling on her stupid new dress. My Aunty Esther rushes to her to save her from falling.
“Jenny, be careful!” Aunty Esther exclaimed, holding her. Mum runs out from the balcony and with the look she gives me, I know she saw what transpired between Jenny and I. I look at Jenny in their arms and she looks back at me with sad eyes, like she wants to cry.
“It’s your party and you can cry if you want to,” I say to her and walk away to my room.
“Sophie! That is no way to talk to your sister. Especially not on her birthday,” Mum begins to say, but I’m already climbing up the stairs to my room.
I hate Jenny so much and one day, I will show her how much I do.
Photocredit:pininterest.com