Burying the Past, Buying My Future

Five years after I severed ties with my family, I finally earned enough money to buy an apartment by moving bodies.

While waiting for my paycheck, I ran straight into my brother, Brandon.

He was there to pick out a burial plot for Tiffany, the adopted daughter’s dog.

He gave an awkward laugh:

“Five years, huh? How have you been since you left home?”

I glanced at the black card in his hand.

“Doing okay. Not as well as Tiffany’s dog, of course.”

He was spending $100,000 on a grave for Tiffany’s dog, while my apartment would only cost $300,000.

Brandon’s voice was strained and stiff:

“You clearly can’t handle a tough life. If you just apologize to Tiffany, I’ll let you come home.”

I shook my head, carefully tucking my money into my pocket.

Go home?

I scoffed. My real estate agent just sent me a message. I’d have my own home very soon.

0 I left the funeral home.

On my way to meet Maya, my agent, I grabbed a small cake.

I hadn’t walked far from the bakery when I suddenly felt a hand clamp around my wrist from behind.

I jumped in surprise.

The cake slipped from my grasp, falling to the ground and shattering.

When I turned back in anger, I was caught off guard by my brother’s dark eyes.

I froze. His voice was cold and hard:

“Don’t you have anything to explain to me?”

Annoyance surged. I pulled my hand free.

“Explain what?”

He pursed his lips, looking me up and down.

“You’re my sister. How can you work at a funeral home? You might not find it unsettling, but I find it humiliating!”

I squatted down to pick up the cake.

“I earn my money through honest work. There’s nothing humiliating or unsettling about that!”

He grabbed my wrist again, forcefully pulling me to my feet.

“Aurora, do you really have to talk to me with that attitude? You’re the one who decided to leave five years ago. Haven’t you gotten over it yet?”

My patience was worn thin. I yanked my hand away.

“You’re the one who can’t get over it, Brandon! We have nothing to do with each other anymore, can you just leave me alone?”

His face completely darkened.

“Mom is sick, and she’s been missing you terribly. How can you be so heartless? Don’t you feel any guilt towards her?”

Always me being heartless.

Five years ago, Tiffany commanded her dog to attack and kill my cat.

All I did was hit that dog once.

And Brandon slapped me across the face.

Even then, he’d said:

“It’s just a dog, it doesn’t know any better. How can you be so cruel?”

I cried hysterically, my face buried in my hands, pleading with Mom for help.

But she doused my hopes with a bucket of cold water.

“That cat of yours was just a stray you brought from the country, and it scratched up all the sofas.”

“If a cat like that dies, it dies. What’s there to cry about?”

Those two sentences were the last straw. I completely lost hope in them and proposed severing all ties.

Brandon’s face was grim as he asked:

“Over such a trivial matter? Are you serious?”

Trivial?

My eyes were red, tears falling silently.

The cat was just the spark.

It was the final straw that broke me.

From the moment I returned to that family, Tiffany had always made things difficult for me.

And my own mother, my own brother?

Not once did they stand by me.

Tiffany claimed I stole her money.

They’d search me, search my room.

Even when they found nothing.

They wouldn’t make her apologize.

Because I’d lived in the country for twenty years, my hands were always chapped with frostbite, and my face easily flushed red.

So she took photos of me and posted them in our shared SnapChat group, leading everyone in mocking me.

At twenty, I was still very self-conscious.

I hid my chapped, red hands behind my back.

And kicked her in the chest.

That was the only time I ever laid a hand on Tiffany.

The result? That very night, Mom made me kneel in the snow.

And write “I’m sorry” a hundred times.

My feelings for them had been burning down since I first rejoined that family.

Three years, and they were finally consumed.

Lucky’s death solidified my decision to leave.

I resolutely dropped out of that prestigious school and entered the workforce.

As I left, Brandon’s face was ashen as he threatened:

“Think this through. Without this family, you’re nothing.”

“One word from me, and you won’t even find a job!”

I said nothing.

I only took the two outfits I’d brought from the country.

After that, began my long journey of job searching.

At Brandon’s instruction, I did indeed hit rock bottom everywhere.

No matter the job, I’d be fired within two months, for various reasons.

But it only took a year.

I found my own way out.

Moving bodies at a funeral home, $500 per corpse.

Though there were many rules, I excelled at it.

In four years, after expenses, I’d saved $150,000.

I was very satisfied.

Brandon in front of me now had the same angry expression as when I’d left home five years ago.

Looking at his face, a wave of disgust rose from the depths of my heart.

“The heartless one is someone else. From now on, let’s pretend we don’t know each other.”

Saying this, I bent down again to pick up the cake, then turned to leave.

His cold voice drifted into my ears:

“No matter what, you can’t continue that job.”

“Tiffany is already a member of the New York Animal Protection Society.”

“And then there’s you. A disgrace!”

0