Favouritism – Featured Story #10

We are sharing the next story in our series, Featured Short Stories, written by students in the Creative Writing Club.

Every week, the students in the club work on writing stories, sometimes from their own ideas, and sometimes from story prompts. This week’s story prompt was: Write a story about sibling rivalry and jealousy.

This story was written by Chinwendu, aged 10. Enjoy!

Favouritism

“And… action!”

My sister Valerie and I were at drama class and were going over our scene for the hundredth time.

“‘What do you mean it’s my fault?’” I said, acting.

“‘How do you not understand?’” replied Valerie, “‘You-”

“Hold on,” said our coach, Missy. “Repeat what you just said, Victoria.”

“Umm…ok. ‘What do you mean it’s my fault?’”

“No. No, no, no, no, no.” Missy shook her head so violently I thought it might fall off.

“Missy, are you okay?” I asked.

“NO!” she shouted.

I jumped at this. Missy rarely ever shouted.

“It’s all wrong. Victoria, we’ve been practising this for over a week, and you still can’t get it right! I’ll have to cut you from the show if you keep this up!”

Tears welled up in my eyes. I looked over to Valerie. She was looking at me sympathetically like she always did when I did something stupid.

I turned back to Missy. She was frowning, shouting, but I wasn’t listening. I ran off the stage and Valerie followed behind me.

I ran into the toilets and locked myself in a cubicle. I could hear Valerie enter a few seconds later.

“Vicky?” called Valerie. “Victoria, open up! Please!”

She started banging on the bathroom door. I could faintly hear Missy shouting at the rest of the class in the background.

“ACTING…VICTORIA…LIKE VALERIE…TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY!”

I knew she was telling them to be less like me and more like Valerie. Everyone did — even our parents.

“VICTORIA!” Valerie was screaming now. I had no choice but to open the door.

As soon as I did, she flung herself at me. “Missy wants to see you,” she said.

I walked back onto the stage; Missy was sitting in a row of seats at the front, her head in her hands.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Can we go home now?” I asked.

Missy looked up at me for a moment, a look of concern on her face, but her expression changed so quickly, it was as if she had never looked me that way.

“Sure,” she said. “Today’s session is over.”

*

When we got home, I ran straight to my room and slammed the door. Valerie ran after me and started banging on the door… again.

“Vicky, please let me in!” she called.

“Go away!” I called back.

“Victoria, please.” I could hear the pain in her voice as she called for me, but I knew she didn’t feel bad. After all, she was a much better actor than me. She stopped banging, and I thought she had given up. I heard footsteps entering Valerie’s neighbouring bedroom and the door closing. I breathed a sigh of relief and sat back in my bed. The connecting door of my and Valerie’s rooms burst open, and she ran into my room.

“Victoria, I’m sorry Missy shouted at you.”

I stared at her blankly. “No, you’re not.”

Valerie paused.

“You acted well.”

“No, I didn’t. You know I didn’t. You’re just saying that.”

“I’m trying to be nice,” Valerie said sharply. “It’s not my fault everyone loves me more than you-”

She stopped quickly, realising what she had said.

I left my room, but Valerie didn’t try to stop me.

*

I went into the kitchen, and found my mum there, making our dinner.

“Oh, hello, Victoria,” she said. “How was your acting class?”

I didn’t want to tell her, but even if I didn’t, she’d know anyway because-

“Valerie!” she cried. I turned around. Valerie was standing at the doorway of the kitchen.

“Since your sister won’t tell me, how about you explain to me what happened at your class today?” She pulled her in for a hug.

Nothing like the reaction she gave me when I appeared, I thought bitterly.

I looked at Valerie desperately, willing her not to tell Mum. It was no use.

“Well, practice went well,” she began. I knew what she would say next. “But Victoria got shouted at by Missy again.

There it was.

Mum glared at me. “Honestly, Victoria. Why can’t you-”

“-be more like Valerie?” I interrupted. “Don’t. I’ve heard it all before.”

Later that evening, I came up with an idea. If my mother and Valerie didn’t love me now, maybe after running away would teach them not to take me for granted. I’d stay away for as long as possible. Until they came to find me.

If they came to find me.

I crept out of my room and down the stairs as quietly as possible. Dad was not yet back from work, but I knew he would be soon. I had to hurry. I packed two bottles of water and shoved loads of snacks into my suitcase, along with a torch, a first aid kit, a blanket, and a pillow. I laid out all my items neatly. But I was forgetting something. I ran upstairs and grabbed my phone, making sure it was fully charged. It was, thank goodness. I packed my power bank along with it though, just in case. I placed my hand on the door handle and opened it. The freezing December breeze slapped me about my face, but I knew what I had to do.

I walked on, battling against the wind. I was risking my life, just to get my family to love me. If this didn’t work, nothing would.

I soon found myself underneath the bridge in the park. No one would find me there. I had to hope to stay hidden as long as possible. I tried to stay awake, but eventually, I felt my eyelids becoming heavy, and before I knew it, I was asleep.

*

I could hear police sirens blaring, and people shouting, and saw flashlights on the bridge. How long had I been away? I checked my suitcase, and all the snacks were gone, both the bottles of water had been finished, and my phone was blowing up with messages. Sixteen missed calls. One hundred and seventy-six unread messages.

Suddenly, I heard someone shout, “She’s here! I’ve found her!”

The next thing I knew, both me and my suitcase were in a police car on the way back home.

I was tired. Although all my snacks were finished, I was hungry. I felt like I was about to faint. My mouth was dry, and I was shivering with the cold.

We finally arrived home, and both my parents were standing at the door, with Valerie in between them. Mum and Dad looked just as tired as I felt, and Valerie was crying. As soon as I got out of the car, they all ran towards me.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

“Why would you scare us like that?” asked Dad.

“I thought that if I ran away, you guys would come and find me, and not take me for granted, and love me.”

Tears streamed down my face.

“We’ve always loved you,” said Mum. “Of course, we had a hard time showing it, but we love you and Valerie the same.”

I turned to Valerie.

“I’m sorry for being such a pain,” I said. “Although you were one too…”

Valerie laughed. “It’s fine. I missed you.”

I smiled.

After that night, our parents loved us the same – and they showed it too. Missy stopped shouting as well, and I was able to work on the costumes for the play. I tried my best when I acted, but there were other things I was interested in too, like fashion designing. Missy understood why I was so slow at the beginning too, and put me in charge of designing for all plays.

I was finally able to shine for something I was good at and I was much happier.

If you have a child who loves writing stories and you want to encourage them to explore their creativity and their imagination, then we would love to have them join our writing club! Just click on the link to register, and we will be in touch. Creative Writing Club – Registration Form.