My mother's face darkened again. She cast a vicious glare at me and said, "She wouldn't dare! You are shameless! Kneel here tonight and reflect!"
Then she turned to my cousin and said, "Violet, you're always so obedient. I've spent so much money for her to learn painting, and what for!"
"Aunt Clara, don't be angry. Annie is still young and can be taught."
"I can't be bothered! You are so understanding. If only she were half as obedient as you..."
Their voices faded. As I watched their retreating figures, close as mother and daughter, the pain in my heart slowly disappeared.
I'd already known that my mother favored my cousin.
Sometimes I wondered if I was really her daughter. If not, why did we look so alike? But if I was, why was she so harsh and cruel to me?
She always said she'd done so much for me, that everything I had was because of her, that my life belonged to her, so she could scold and beat me at her will!
Fortunately, I would soon no longer owe her anything.
When my cousin Violet came to live with us, I was only thirteen. She wore tattered clothes and cried in my mother's arms.