Schadenfreude: pleasure derived by someone from their misery.

Eighteen is that sweet number of your life when you are given some privileges like casting vote, having a driving license and if you want, you can be more independent and act like an adult even when you are nothing but a minor.

Well, I, at eighteen, did not get any of the above privileges. I did not cast my vote because the voting season had gone. I did not get a driving license because I was too afraid of driving. I did not become independent because I did not want to be.

Most children in Pakistan are very much dependent on their parents even when they reach adulthood and I was one of those.

In the previous four years, I had toned down myself. I was no longer a stubborn and angry girl. Instead, I had become a pessimist. I still had anger issues but my angry bursts were now accompanied by tears.

Everything was normal but it was not. I realized it when my sister boldly accused me of being a monster.

Her exact words were: You are nothing but a jealous girl wrapped in her insecurities. Always want others downfall and never get happy with their success. But mark my words, you will have an alone and unhappy life.

Her words stung me but nevertheless, it was the sad truth of my life.

I always got pleasure when someone failed in their mission. I do remember the various times I got rewarded for the hard work that was not mine. Once I presented a project that was not even made by me. I had taken credit for other peoples' hard work.

I was never happy when my siblings did something better than me. It was like feeling happy for others was a foreign concept to me. So when my sister came first in a spelling competition on a national level, I failed her because I did not even congratulate her on her success.

I thought she would ignore it but she did confront me. Her harsh words did some effect on my conscience.

Through her words, I recognized the green-eyed girl for the first time. She was Envy. I did want to confront her. But how could I when she and I were the same. The seed that she had planted was now a full grown tree. I could feel its branches till the end of my limbs and to all the pores of my skin.

So, simply I was doomed.