My Sister Is Actually My Biological Mother. But She Doesn’t Want Me || Best True Stories Animated
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Hi, everybody! My name is Mercy and I am sixteen. Have you ever heard of the expression that says “children are punished for the sins of their parents”? Well, I am that very kid.
I suppose the main cause of my problems is that I could never see my biological mother as my mother. Even though I knew her for my whole life and I found out that she was really my mother a long time ago – when I was eight.
It was then that my father, Ben, told me that my older sister Annice was, in fact, my mother.
Oh my God, how happy was I! Annice lived in another city, and I did not see her often, but I waited for her every time as if it were Christmas!
This also meant that Annice’s children were my real brothers and sisters! And I knew that Annice was expecting another baby who was going to be born soon. Of course, I asked my father if we could go and see Annice as soon as possible!
When I looked out the train window and thought about my first encounter with Annice as my mother, it had suddenly occurred to my mind that my father was, indeed, my grandfather. It might seem strange, but this was much harder for me to accept, even though everything had become clear now. Ben was well beyond his fifties, and he was older than all my friends’ fathers.
I was confused, trying to adapt to this new world inside my head. But this happy feeling, that I will soon hug my mother, still mattered most.
…I suppose that there was one single moment in my life when I felt that Annice was my mother. When we arrived, and I, embarrassingly tongue twisted the simplest words in the world, and fumblingly said: “Mommy, please comb me.”
While Annice was brushing my hair and we talked about the baby sleeping under her heart, I was totally and absolutely happy.
And I was happy for a while after Ben and I got back home. I did not have any close friends, but I told everybody who would listen that I would soon be living with my mother. It’s good that my life did not interest people too much, and nobody asked me about it later on.
Because after a couple of months I realized that Annice was not going to change her life. Ben, who I had started to call my father again, tried to comfort me and said that Annice was having a hard time right now, waiting for the baby, and her other children needed her attention too, and that now was just not the best time for change.
But the right time never came. And I started to call Annice my sister again. Ben did not correct me, — it was easier for both of us.
Four years had passed. And suddenly Ben and I learned that Annice had left her husband… and their three children. I was already twelve, and Ben did not hide his shock from me. But I… I felt hope. If Annice had left them, did it mean that she would come back to us? To ME?
I did not tell Ben about my thoughts, I kept them deep inside my heart. But since I saw that he did not approve of Annice’s actions, I argued with him, sincerely defending her and looking for any reasons that could justify her decisions.
At approximately the same time I asked him how it happened that he adopted me. And he told me. Annice was sixteen when she gave birth to me. She had to miss a year of high school because of that, and then she moved to another town to finish school, leaving her newborn, me, with her father, Ben.
And when Annice came back she did not want to stay with Ben. She had found a job and could now afford to rent a room, so she moved out… and took me with her!
But the baby, who did not yet turn two, only caused problems. When she left for work, she left me with her roommate, who worked from home. But once, he went out to get some food, you know, just for a second. And suddenly he ran into a friend. It might have been okay, but he had left a window open. It was winter, and I got a pneumonia after a several hours of crying in an ice-cold room, dressed in just a sliders.
Ben took me into his home after the hospital. He thought it would be a temporary solution. But after six months Annice got married and left town. In the next six months she had another baby. Then another one… I was already four by that time and I remember drawing a greeting card for my dear sister Annice…
Ben’s story only made me more positive that Annice… my mother, was going to come back to us.
But within a year Ben and I learned that Annice had had another baby and was happily living with him and her new boyfriend. I think that this news was the final blow to all my naive dreams. And as they vanished, I sank into the darkness of depression.
Music by Epidemic Sound: https://www.epidemicsound.com