Fighting Back My Bloodsucker Family

My parents took out a high-interest loan in my name to help my younger brother pay off his debts. I chuckled; the day I'd been waiting for had finally come. I was determined to personally put my arrogant brother and our bloodsucker parents behind bars.

...

To pay off my brother's debts, my parents even stole my identity and took out an 800,000 loan from a microloan company. They not only took away my hard-earned savings but also wanted to drain me dry.

Heartless parents, an arrogant brother--I had been waiting for this day for a long time. I would send them to jail myself.

My name is Nadia Coleman. When I was a child, people used to compliment my name, and I was quite proud of it.

Nadia--it felt like my parents were calling me by my nickname with deep affection and fondness, following me around. I used to believe that until I entered the first grade. One day, my mother came running out of her room, tears in her eyes, and slapped me hard, saying, "It's all your fault. How did I end up with such a money-losing investment like you? Nadia, means hope, why couldn't I have a son instead?"

I covered my swollen face, unable to believe it. "What?!"

My once-prideful name was actually proof that my parents had hoped for a son?

I was incredulous and went to my father. He looked at me, his expression full of disappointment. "Don't overthink it. Your mother just wanted a son, after all. You're just a girl, and you'll always be a burden to others."

After hearing this, I was quite indignant and told him that I could still achieve great things and bring honor to our family without getting married. However, my father gave me a lengthy lecture, asserting that there was nothing a girl could do if she didn't get married, and I shouldn't have unrealistic dreams. He also said that if a girl didn't behave properly, she would become the subject of gossip.

His words were so certain that they made me doubt myself. Could it be that girls were truly worthless?

This incident left me feeling disgusted. When others complimented my name after that, I would force a smile, but I felt a deep sense of revulsion, as if the name itself was a disgrace.

Not long after, my mother became pregnant, and her belly noticeably grew. Although she claimed it was a recent discovery, the doctor's examination at the hospital clearly indicated that she was over five months pregnant. So, it seemed they had planned to have another child all along, but kept it a secret from me until they couldn't hide it any longer.

I suspected that before, they had believed it was a girl and had considered an abortion. I overheard them discussing it one night, saying, "It's another girl, we might as well abort it."

But later, they must have become certain that it was a boy, and with my mother's sudden change in attitude, there was no doubt about it. Every day, my mother looked forward to the child's birth, and she began preparing baby supplies early. It was all clearly intended for a boy. Seeing those familiar little blankets in shades of blue, I remembered using the same kind of things. It was evident that they had always wanted a son.

On the day of the birth, my mother got her wish. She joyfully held the baby, inviting me to take a look. I glanced at a bundle in the blue blanket, a squinting, wrinkled little bundle, all red and resembling a big rat. I couldn't help but frown and spoke the truth, "He's quite ugly."

My father glared at me, scolding me for being insensitive and asking me to apologize to my younger brother. I was infuriated. Could a baby not even a month old understand what we were saying? Thinking that they might not treat me well now that they had a son, I spent the whole day in frustration.

They didn't notice anything wrong with me; they were too busy playing with the baby. They held him during the day, comforted him at night, and left me on the sidelines as if I were just an afterthought. Mom had the baby, and even our usually distant grandmother came from the countryside to visit. She brought many eggs and vegetables from home to see her grandson.

At night, they gathered in the living room to discuss what name to give the baby, while I was assigned to wash the dishes in the kitchen. I was young at the time, and reaching the sink was a real struggle, let alone getting the dishes cleaned. As I washed the dishes in the kitchen, I could hear Grandma laughing and chatting with Mom in the living room, speaking softly and kindly--a complete departure from her usual sour demeanor when she was around Mom. Grandma said, "My precious grandson, the Coleman family finally has an heir now. You can hold your head up high now!"

I didn't understand this strange rule--why did having a son make it possible to hold one's head high, while not having a son meant you had to be submissive, not even allowed to eat at the table?

No one explained it to me, and they all seemed to think this was a very ordinary idea. After all, they prioritized boys over girls, and every family was like that.