itsariahere
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Summary
Mira learned how to be invisible before she learned how to write her own name.
She learned it in the way her mother’s eyes glazed over whenever she entered the room, only to sharpen with venom if she lingered too long. She learned it in the way her father’s suitcase was never fully unpacked, always halfway to gone. She learned it in the way her brother, the golden boy, never said her name unless it was to tattle, to scold, or to spit it like a curse.
She learned it in the silence between dinner clinks and the muffled arguments behind closed doors, in the cold rice that waited for her after everyone else had eaten. In the echoing thud of her mother’s voice slurred over soju:
“You were born to ruin this family.”