FORGOTTEN, THEN REMEMBERED
I was ten when my parents left me.
They promised it was temporary—just until they got my younger sister, Lily, settled into her intense training for gymnastics. They told me I’d come back home soon.
They never came back.
At first, I waited. First weeks, then months. I called them. They were always “too busy.” Eventually, I stopped trying.
My uncle and aunt, who couldn’t have kids of their own, took me in. They wanted me. They raised me, supported me, celebrated my achievements.
Meanwhile, my parents funneled all their time and money into Lily’s career. She was their golden child, their future Olympian. And I was… nothing.
Years passed. I stopped wondering if they’d ever come for me. I built a life without them. Found my passion in IT. Worked hard, freelanced, and by 22, I was making more than both of them combined.
Then, a few months ago, everything changed.
Lily had a serious accident. Her sports career was over. And suddenly… my parents remembered I existed.
They didn’t call. Didn’t message. No, they cornered me at church.
“Melody!” My mother’s voice was sickly sweet, her smile forced. “It’s been so long!”
I took a step back. “Sorry, do I know you?”
Her smile faltered. My father’s face turned red. “What kind of tone is that? You are aware of who we are.”
“Oh, I remember exactly who you are.” I tilted my head. “My biological parents, right? The ones who dumped me on Grandma and never looked back?”
My mother gasped. “That’s not—”
I raised a hand. “Save it. You had twelve years to care. You didn’t.”
“But we’re family,” my father snapped. “And Lily—”
I laughed coldly. “Ah, there it is. This isn’t about me. It’s about Lily. What? You need someone to support her now that she can’t make money off her career?”
Their silence said everything.
I shook my head. “I already have a family. The one that raised me. The one that never abandoned me.”
My mother’s eyes filled with tears. My father clenched his jaw. But I didn’t care.
I turned to walk away.
“You can’t just ignore us!” my father barked.
I glanced back, smiling.
“That’s funny,” I said. “Because you ignored me first.”
And then, I left.