Betrayed by Her Own: Dasha’s Struggle for Acceptance in a Coldhearted Family, and How Compassion Tri…

A Family’s Betrayal

Long ago, I often found myself watching my brother and sister with a strange mixture of awe and yearning. How striking they lookedtall, dark-haired, blue-eyed, always standing at the centre of every celebration. Once again, they were called forward, Championsagainat the village sports. I rose as fast as my leg would allow, eager to be the first to reach them. In my clumsy hands were two knitted rabbits, little gifts Id made, one in a skirt, the other in checked trousers, meant for my brother Edward and my sister Abigail.

I was awkward, terribly overweight, my thin hair barely clipped back, and an innocent smile played on my lips. Yet Edward and Abigail pretended not to notice me. I fought my way through the crowd.

Excuse me, please. Those are my brother and sister! Please let me through! I called out, filled with hope.

Abby, theres some fat girl shouting shes your sister. Honestly? Is that true? her friend, golden-haired Louise, asked as she scrutinised me with a frown.

Abigail turned just enough to catch sight of me and scowled. To herself, she thought, Fat idiot! What is she doing here? Mother mustve sent her. Embarrassing

Out loud, she replied lightly, No, of course not. Ive only one brotherEdward.

Louise laughed harshly. Just as I thought. Tagging along, is she? Pitiful! And trying to hand you those silly toys.

Shes probably a local fan of ours. Take the toys, will you, Louise? Come on, Edward, lets get out of here. Abigail blew a showy kiss, grabbed Edwards hand, and began pushing towards the award stage.

Louise took my rabbits, promising to give them to the twins.

Right! Ill be waiting for you at home! Im baking some Chelsea buns! I said, hobbling away as best I could.

Later, as they hurried away, Louise tossed my gifts in the bin. She said shell wait at home for you, with Chelsea buns. Like she needs any more buns herself. Abby, she really isnt family, is she? Why does she never leave you alone?

No! Ive no idea who she is. Some people just want to rub shoulders with a bit of glory, I suppose. Lets go! And with that, Abigail, Louise, and Edward swept away to collect their medals.

But she had lied. I was indeed their sisterthough only a half-sister, taken in by Mrs Helen Thompson after my own distant relative passed away during a family holiday. I was left alone, a little girl, injured, with nowhere to go. Helen, though hardly relatedseventh cousinhad different surname and everything, but she took me in when no one closer would.

Before agreeing, Mrs Thompson endured tantrums from her husband and children. The twins had been brought up spoiled, never denied anything.

Mum, dont bring her here! Shes fat, she limps, and shes stupid. Its embarrassing just to walk next to her!

Love, darlinghave pity. Shes all alone. People take in stray dogs and cats. Here we have a real child, a little one. Weve a big house! She wont be any trouble, Helen pleaded.

They grudgingly agreed, mostly because the family money came from Helen, who ran the village shop. Her husband David, her charming Leonard, was her assistant and spent his time ambling along, full of affairs behind her back. She never said a word, perhaps because both the twins had inherited their father’s good looks.

I grew up apart, an odd little thingpale-haired, eyes nearly transparent blue, so light they looked almost milky.

Shes got water for eyes. And shes like a little pudding! Abigail would sneer.

True, I was soft and round, with dimples in my cheeks, gentle to a fault, but always left to play alone. Edward and Abigail never included me, and I bore the brunt of every mishap. Edward knocked over a vaseAbigail blamed me. Abigail tore a fashionable jumperagain, it was my fault.

But I never protested. I only nodded and apologised, because I knew if they were scolded, it would ruin their loveliness. Besides, Mrs Thompson never scolded me. Her husband, though, would lose his temper.

Why did you bring this creature into our home? She can barely walk. She looks like a stuffed dumpling! Our son and daughter are strikingly beautiful, and shes just something for contrast? Nobody else would take herhave some sense, Helen. Whos going to want a girl like her when shes grown? Leonard would bellow.

I would listen behind closed doors and go look in the mirror. I hated my own reflection, wishing desperately to be like Edward and Abigail.

When it came time for school, the twins insisted I attend a different one, threatening to skip lessons and drop their grades otherwise. So Mrs Thompson, realising the fragile bridge she had tried to build was crumbling, reluctantly agreed. There was little she could do.

The years passed. Edward and Abigail left for university. I asked to stay home.

But you could do anything, my dear! Mrs Thompson argued. Ill pay for you! You could be a designer, a translatoranything you wish, Alice. She hugged me close, and I, like a kitten, nuzzled her cheek in return. Oddly, with me, Helen found the simple warmth her own children never showed.

I waited for her after work, no matter how late. Even on chilly nights, I stood in the garden, or in the hallway on the old stool, while her husband and children rarely bothered even with a hello. Once, when Helen complained, Abigail snapped, Mum, were busy! That silly girl waits for you like a little dog, because shes got nothing else to do. She never dreams about anything!

One evening, I whispered to Mum, Could I become a vet, Mum? To help dogs and cats and bunnies, even little pigs? Id love to treat animals. And I can train right here!

That was no surprise; I was forever bringing home strayskittens, puppies, anything needing care. Once, a great shaggy mongrel became ours. Abigail protested, wanting a pedigree dog, but Mrs Thompson stood up for me.

So it went. In time, Mrs Thompsons health failed, and she needed to stay home. Her husband, seeing the savings running thin, promptly ran off with her best friendthe woman who owned the high street hairdresser.

Her children only came for her money now, and she still had some put by. Only I remained, limping around the cottage, cooking nice things, massaging her hands, brewing teas and tonics. Wed sit beneath the old apple tree with tea, the world peaceful as dusk settled around us. No one was happier than I in those moments.

Abigail and Edward started their own families. Mum helped them both buy houses. Then, catastrophe struck. Edward arrived one night, near tears, burdened with huge debts.

Whats to be done? Where could we get such a sum? Did you ask your father? No? Hes no help either. Even if I gave everything, its not enoughdear me, what shall we do? Mrs Thompson cried out.

Well, thats it then. You wont have a son any longer, Edward said coldly.

What are you saying? Edward, darling, come here she embraced him.

His idea: sell the house. That, together with everything else, would cover the debt.

But, my dear… what about Alice and me? Where will we go? Mrs Thompson was stunned.

I dont care where that fat idiot goes. Shes grown, she can provide for herselfshes sponged enough. As for youcome and live with me and Clara! Shell be delighted! Edward smiled reassuringly.

Clara was his wife, though Mrs Thompson doubted her welcome. Still, she wouldnt quarrel. She had to save her son! She only insistedAlice must come too. Edward agreed at last, but later, I quietly told Mum, Go with him, Mum. As for me Ill live with a friend, someone special, someone whos been asking me for a while. Dont worry about me!

But who, darling? Why havent we met? You never said! Mrs Thompson asked, surprised.

Later, Mum. Youll meet him. Please, dont worry! I hugged her tight.

Edward, naturally, was relievednot needing Abigails help to get rid of me after all.

Of course, it was a lie. There was no one. Deep inside me, I sensed I wouldnt be welcome with them, and didnt want to be the cause of trouble or strain. Nolet Mum have her peace, her place; it was easier for everyone that way. I loved her more than anything in the world.

I found a room at last, an advert in the post officea cottage outside the village, owned by old Mr. Percival, widower and a bit lonely. The house had chickens, goats, some piglets. It suited me perfectly. When he learnt I was training as a vet, the old man nearly refused to take rent; but I insisted, and hed only slip money back into my bag.

It all fell into place. I had a home, a job at the veterinary surgery, respect from my neighbours, and the animalsoh, the love from their soft eyes! They never shrank away. For each, I had a gentle word and a little treat from my wages.

Here you are, Toby, my sunshine. Thats for you. Dont worry, love, Ill leave you some drops. Just ring me, day or night, if you need anything, Id say to the owners.

Oh sweetheart, my poor Basils never been looked after so kindly! Gold dust, you are! Mrs Anderson, owner of a plump Maine Coon, would tell me.

And I flourished, only my heart fretting for Mum. I called often, but she seemed to avoid my calls. More recently, Edward answered, curtly telling me Mum was resting.

I dont know any more. I miss her dreadfully. Havent seen her in half a year, I confessed to old Mr Percival over tea.

Well, why dont we pay a visit? Ill come alongIve my old Morris Minor, still going strong! I can drive you, he suggested warmly.

Delighted, I agreed. We knew Edwards address. But when we knocked, a tall blonde in a short robe yawned at the door.

Who are you? If youre selling something, I dont need it! she tried closing the door in our faces.

You must be Clara, Edwards wife? I asked.

Yes she answered, suspicious.

Im Alice. His sister. Just a quick visitthis is Mr Percival. Is Mum home?

No, shes not here. Edward took her awayput her in a home. She was too ill, needed constant care. Hes always at work, I have my own things to do. Where is it? No ideaIve never visited. Ill call him Edward? Your sisters herewith some crusty old man. Wants the address. Fine, Ill write it. But dont come back here! Clara snarled, her perfume stinging as she handed me a scrap of paper.

I was barely listening. We hurried away.

I cant believe they said nothing. I would have But Ive no place of my own, I suppose. Id have done something I murmured.

They should have told you! Theres room here for your mum, you know. Id have made spaceno question! These young folk, no respect, Mr Percival fumed.

We found the placea cheerless home. Could this frail, skeletal woman be my cheerful, bustling mother? Shed been so tall, well-built, always fussing, always solving problems. Now she lay helpless, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

Mum! Its me, Alice! Oh, Mum, Im so sorry I havent come sooner. I thought Oh, Mum, please forgive me! Im taking you home, I promise! Mr Percivals got chickensyoull have eggs and goats milk, well get you well again, youll see! Mum! I love you, please dont be silent. Were going home, Mum! I wept, clutching her fragile hand.

By some miraclebecause on the paperwork, I was her legal daughterMr Percival and I brought her home. He helped no end, waving his medals and promising to ring his old army chums if need beinsisting Mrs Thompson had family, and wasnt to be left behind. Edward had clearly arranged for her to be left there for good.

On the tenth day, Mrs Thompson rose and walked to the window. Outside, the pig ambled, the cockerel crowed, the scent of hay and milk drifting in, and the smell of Chelsea buns baking. I bounced into the room, limping but beaming, and found Mum crying at the window. I stumbled over and hugged her, apologised for being away so long, and said sorry for not giving her the life she might have wantedwith Edward and Abigail.

Mrs Thompson hugged me in silence, the way shed never held Abigail or Edward. As if she saw once again the odd, gentle little girl shed brought into her lifenot by blood, but by kindness. And here I remained, the only one at her side when life faded and her real children no longer cared.

There, there, Alice. Everythings going to be alright now. Everything, my child, she whispered.

Ladies! Teas on! called Mr Percival from the doorway.

Laughing through our tears, hand in hand, the three of us walked in for teaand, together, into a new life.