"Art Competition? Really?" I blurted out loud. 

"Yup. Mr Ronnie, your Art teacher, said that you were talented in Art, so he selected you out of the entire cohort to participate in the competition." Mrs Maribelle explained. "Please ask your parents to sign this form and hand it to me by tomorrow." 

I screamed in delight as I held the consent form in my hand. Finally, something to prove that I was better than my baby sister! Thanking Mrs Maribelle profusely, I left the office, smiling gleefully. I had never made such an achievement. Ever. I must not let Mrs Maribelle and Mr Ronnie down. I had to do my very best and win the competition for the school!

I had a skip in my steps as I headed back to class. I ate my packet of chips as I skipped merrily. I was no longer angry with Alexis and the mean girls. They were just bullies. What could they do to me? 

~

Rinnnggg! The school bell rang, signaling the end of school. Finally! Time to go home and show the consent form to my father. I boarded the bus, still smiling from ear to ear. Hugging the consent form in my hands, I could not wait to reach home and show the form to my father and Angelica. 

"Layla, we've reached your house," Joseph whispered in my ear. I looked up and realized that the bus had already reached my house. Thanking Joseph, I hopped off the bus and dashed towards my house. 

"Dad! Angelica! I got nominated for an Art competition!" I shouted happily, waving the registration form in my hand. 

Seeing that there was no one around, I was surprised. "Dad? Angelica?" I yelled as I ran upstairs. I ran to my baby sister's room, only to realize that they were inside. A baby cot was placed in the room, with a bedside lamp and cute decorations. Oblivious to my presence, they continued fixing the baby cot and placing more decorations. 

"Dad, Angelica, I'm home." I muttered softly. "I...I got nominated for an Art competition by Mr Ronnie and Mrs Maribelle. Could you sign this consent form..." 

"Oh. You're back, Layla. Could you pass me that screwdriver please?" My father replied, not even looking at me. "Go make a sandwich for yourself as lunch. We're busy." 

I looked down on the ground and walked to get the screwdriver. I handed it to my father, who snatched it from my hands. 

"Dad, could you sign the consent form once you're done? I need it by tomorrow," I said quietly.

"Yes, yes. Whatever. I'll sign it later." he replied in an angry tone, glaring at me. 

Feeling the urge to get out of the room as soon as possible, I tiptoed my way out and made my way to the kitchen. My father never yelled at me. He never neglected me for someone else. I was always his dearest daughter and he worked hard to give me what I wanted. Well, looks like that isn't going to happen again.

I went to the fridge to get lettuce, tomatoes, cheese and ham. After that, I got myself two slices of bread from the table. Being a well-trained young chef, I started to slice the tomatoes and lettuce carefully. After that, I went to find the frying pan and started cooking the ham. A spatula in my hand and the pan in the other, I flipped the ham to make sure the other side was okay.

In minutes, the aroma of delicious ham filled the air as I plated the ham on a slice of bread. I slowly added the cheese, tomatoes and lettuce on top and placed the final slice of bread on it. I had not cooked for quite some time. I used to always cook delicious food with my mother. She taught me how to cook since I was four. When my father went out to have dinner, we would cook either pasta or pizza together. How I missed those times.

"Layla, after you're done with lunch, could you come up here and help to set up your baby sister's room?" Angelica exclaimed from the room. 

I sighed. Why did they treat my baby sister as if she was gold? Why did my father neglect me for another person's child? Why, out of so many families in the world, I had to be born in this one? 

After munching my sandwich, I went upstairs to my baby sister's room. The bed was already set up, and the walls were painted in a beautiful shade of pink. There was a cupboard at the corner to store my baby sister's clothes, and there were wooden boxes filled with baby toys. 

"We're quite done already, Layla. Why don't you make a painting for your sister?" my father told me as he passed me some paint bottles. 

"A painting? Why can't you do it yourself since you love her so much?" I exclaimed angrily, throwing the paint bottles aside. 

"Layla! Do what I say or else you can get out of this house! We don't need you!" my father yelled, giving me a glare. 

"Whatever. I don't care for this family anyway. I only love Mum." I muttered under my breath. 

Picking up the paint bottles, I stomped out of the room and closed the door shut. 

A tear streamed down my cheek. I missed my mother terribly. I wished my father was gone instead of her. My mother would never remarry. Ever. She was extremely kind and fun-loving. The best mother on earth.