When I was 15 my parents kicked me out so my older sister could have her own bedroom. When I asked them where I should go, Mom grinned, “Figure it out, darkie.” That was seven months ago. Today, they’re both begging for forgiveness.

My dad is black and my mom is white. I look really black while my older sister Kate looks more white. This one feature has affected my entire life.

You see, despite my dad being black, he has extreme colorism against black people, while my mom is just straight up racist. To her, my dad is the only exception.

Me and Kate are only 2 years apart, but growing up, our experiences were very different. Every birthday of hers was celebrated not only with a cake, but also huge birthday blowouts every day for her entire birth week.

Meanwhile, my birthday was just another day in the year.

However, instead of soaking up all the attention and hating me as much as our parents did, Kate would always be kind to me when they weren’t looking.

On my 9th birthday, Kate knew our parents wouldn’t do anything for me. So, she asked them if she could celebrate her birthday on my day. Of course, they said yes.

And when the day came, she let me choose who to invite. When it was time for the cake, Kate distracted my parents and brought them into another room so everyone could sing happy birthday for me. It was one of the happiest days of my life.

Another time, when we got our report cards and she got all C’s while I got B’s, she knew my parents would likely wail on me for not getting A’s.

So while they were reading my report card, she begged them not to hurt me because she didn’t like violence. So they ended up just pinching me a few times.

So even though my parents basically saw me as a cotton picker, as they called me, I still felt lucky because Kate was always there until one day when she turned her back on me.

It was her 17th birthday.

I woke up to the sound of not just my mom, not just my dad, but my entire family throwing all of my belongings into boxes.

“Your sister said all she wants for her birthday is her own room. Sorry,” is the first thing my dad said when I asked what was going on.

My eyes widened and I asked them where I was supposed to go because there were no other rooms in the house.

My mom chimed in, “I don’t know. You have phone numbers of friends and family. Figure it out, Darky.”