Hi, my name is Anna. I know, it's not the prettiest name in the world at least that's what my mother always says. She didn't choose it out of love. In fact, as she once told me, "It suits a girl no one would want."
I have a twin sister, Ava, and together we're the only children in the family. But if you saw the way we were treated, you'd think we came from two completely different worlds. Ava is everything my mother could ever want blonde hair, blue eyes, perfect smile the very image of her. And me? I have red hair and green eyes, a mirror of my father's side of the family.
Growing up, everyone adored Ava. Strangers would stop just to tell my mother how beautiful her daughter was. My mother's face would light up with pride but when she looked at me, her smile vanished. She never hid her disgust. "Cursed," she whispered once, as if my hair and eyes were some kind of punishment from God.
At home, love was divided like a cruel joke. My father, a firefighter with a kind heart, loved us both deeply. He was the only warmth in our cold house. He would smile at me, hug me, remind me that I mattered. But it never lasted long. My mother's disdain followed me everywhere in her words, in her silences, in the way she handed Ava everything while I got crumbs.
By the time Ava and I became teenagers, the difference between us was impossible to ignore. She walked through life effortlessly, her laughter echoing like music in every room. I trailed behind, a shadow, hoping no one noticed me except that everyone always did.
"Anna!" my mother's voice would snap me out of any daydream, sharp and impatient. "Do this, do that, hurry up!" There was never a smile, never encouragement. I learned early on that my worth in this house wasn't measured by who I was, but by who I wasn't perfect like Ava.
I remember one morning vividly. I had spent hours trying to braid my hair neatly, hoping it might make her look at me with... something other than contempt. I walked into the kitchen and saw my father smiling, as warm as sunlight. "Good morning, my angel," he said, hugging me tight. For a brief moment, I believed maybe today would be different.
But my mother was brushing Ava's hair, humming happily, slipping books into her bag as if preparing a princess for a ball. My father's eyes followed her too, and I felt invisible all over again.
I wanted to scream, to ask why she hated me so much, why I wasn't enough. But the words got caught in my throat. It was safer to stay silent, to shrink into the shadows where Ava's light couldn't reach me.
At school, the pattern continued. My red hair made me stand out not in a good way. Whispers followed me down the hallways. Stares lingered too long. Kids called me names like "firehead" or "weird twin." Ava didn't help. She thrived in the attention, often turning my humiliation into her amusement.
One day, she deliberately tripped me in the cafeteria line. "Watch out, everyone! Anna's coming through don't get burned!" she laughed, the room erupting into cruel giggles. My cheeks burned with shame as I picked up my books, trying to disappear into the crowd.
I found solace only in two people: Mike, the quiet boy with kind eyes who always offered a small smile, and Olivia, my best friend since childhood, who never let anyone treat me like I didn't matter.
"Let me guess," Mike said softly as we walked to class, "the royal treatment again?"
I forced a shaky laugh. "Yeah. Same as always."
"Why don't you just tell your dad?" he asked.
"Because I don't want to break my family apart," I whispered. "Dad loves all of us."
Olivia gave me a reassuring hug. "If Ava tries anything at school today, I'll make sure she regrets it."
For a brief moment, I felt safe. For a brief moment, the weight of being unwanted lifted just a little.
But home awaited like a storm. Every day, I had to face a mother who despised me, a sister who thrived on my misery, and the knowledge that love in that house was never meant for me.
Yet, despite everything, a spark inside me refused to die. Maybe, just maybe, one day I would stop being invisible. One day, someone would see me Anna, red-haired, green-eyed, alive, and worthy of love.
And as I walked to my next class, I held onto that spark like a secret flame, hoping it would be enough to carry me through the darkness that seemed determined to define my life.