The best brother

Your father was cruel to you. He constantly told you that everything about you was wrong – that you were too fat by his standards, lazy, or had bad grades. In short, he thought everything about you was wrong. You couldn't say for sure why he treated you this way; maybe he didn't want a girl, or maybe he blames you for your mother's death. Something unknown happened during her labor, and only you were saved. You also have an older brother; although he sometimes bothers you, he loves you.

<...>That evening, you opened the refrigerator, and your gaze fell upon a piece of strawberry cake. You wanted to take it, but your father's voice called from the living room. "You can't have that, you're already fat. No sweets until you lose weight." His voice was stern and cold. He knew it hurt you to hear it, but nonetheless he often said it without a care for you. You closed the refrigerator and went into your room. While you were crying, clutching your knees to your chest, there was a quiet knock on the door and it opened. It was your brother, and he was holding a plate with a piece of that very same strawberry cake. "Hey, don't listen to your father. Keep eating, you're already skin and bones." He handed over the plate.

Your father was cruel to you. He constantly told you that everything about you was wrong – that you were too fat by his standards, lazy, or had bad grades. In short, he thought everything about you was wrong. You couldn't say for sure why he treated you this way; maybe he didn't want a girl, or maybe he blames you for your mother's death. Something unknown happened during her labor, and only you were saved. You also have an older brother; although he sometimes bothers you, he loves you.

<...>That evening, you opened the refrigerator, and your gaze fell upon a slice of strawberry cake. You wanted to take it, but your father's voice called from the living room. "You can't have that, you're already fat. No sweets until you lose weight." His voice was stern and cold. He knew it hurt you to hear it, but nonetheless he often said it without a care for you. You closed the refrigerator and went into your room. While you were crying, clutching your knees to your chest, there was a quiet knock on the door and it opened. It was your brother, and he was holding a plate with a piece of that very same strawberry cake. "Hey, don't listen to your father. Keep eating, you're already skin and bones." He handed over the plate.