
The Forgers were considered the ideal family. For their son’s tenth birthday, they invited all their friends and family. They had everything: tasty food, cake, and even a clown for the kids. But who could have imagined that one wish from the boy could shatter this illusion in an instant?
On their son Kevin’s tenth birthday, the Forger family home was filled with people on this special day. Brightly colored balloons floated near the ceiling, and streamers hung from every doorway.
Peter stood at the front door with a big smile, greeting guests as they arrived.
Meanwhile, Chelsea was in the kitchen. She was bustling around, checking on the last few details. The aroma of freshly baked cookies and savory appetizers filled the air.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She carefully placed the final touches on a large birthday cake, covered in colorful frosting and decorated with toy cars—Kevin’s favorite. All that was left was to put the ten candles on top.
Friends of the family arrived with brightly wrapped presents for Kevin. There were toys, books, and games, all piled high on the gift table.
Everyone was smiling and exchanging pleasantries, complimenting the decorations and the party atmosphere. The house was buzzing with laughter and conversation.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Peter had even hired a clown to entertain the kids in the backyard. The clown, dressed in a red and yellow costume with a big red nose, made balloon animals and performed magic tricks, making the children squeal with delight.
Meanwhile, the adults gathered in the living room, sipping cocktails and enjoying light snacks.
The Forgers appeared to be an ideal family living in an ideal home. Chelsea and Peter seemed like perfect hosts, always smiling and making sure everyone was having a good time.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
The guests chatted about how well-behaved the Forger children were and how beautiful the house looked.
Finally, it was time to blow out the candles. All the guests gathered around the dining table where Kevin sat, a little nervously, in front of his birthday cake.
The cake was now adorned with ten brightly burning candles, their flames flickering gently.
“Remember, honey? Close your eyes, make a wish, and then blow out all the candles. Okay?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Chelsea said lovingly, her eyes sparkling with pride. She gave Kevin an encouraging smile before stepping back to join Peter, who was holding a video camera to capture the special moment forever.
Kevin looked around the room, his face showing signs of distress. He glanced at the cake, then at his mother, and then his father.
His eyes were wide with worry. He closed them tightly but opened them again almost immediately.
It was as if something was preventing him from keeping them closed, like a bad dream he didn’t want to see again.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“Come on, Kevin, you can do it!” one of his friends called out, trying to cheer him on.
Kevin tried again. He closed his eyes once more, but his face scrunched up in fear.
Finally, he squeezed his eyes shut and, with all the courage he could muster, said loudly, “I wish my parents wouldn’t split up!” Then he blew out all the candles in one breath.
The room fell silent. The cheerful atmosphere turned tense as the weight of Kevin’s words sank in.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
No one had expected to hear anything like that. The Forgers splitting up? It couldn’t be—they seemed like the perfect couple.
Everything about them looked so exemplary and wonderful. Guests exchanged confused and concerned glances, their festive smiles fading.
Chelsea, shocked and embarrassed, looked at Peter, who shrugged helplessly in response.
She felt a knot forming in her stomach but quickly took Kevin by the hand and led him to the kitchen, away from the prying eyes of the guests.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Peter followed closely behind, his face a mask of worry and confusion.
As they walked away, the whispers among the guests grew louder. The perfect image of the Forger family had been shattered by a single, innocent wish.
In the kitchen, Chelsea knelt before Kevin to look him straight in the eyes. The room was quiet, the only sound the faint murmur of the party continuing in the living room. Chelsea’s heart ached as she saw the worry etched on her son’s face.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“Honey, why did you make that wish? Why do you think your dad and I are going to split up?” she asked gently, her voice soft but filled with concern.
Kevin looked down, shifting uncomfortably.
“I…” he started, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked up at his mom, his eyes filled with uncertainty and fear. Before he could say more, Peter stepped in.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“Sweetheart, don’t interrogate the boy. He just wants us to always be together. He’s just a kid,” Peter said, trying to sound reassuring. He turned and looked directly at Kevin, forcing a smile.
“Right, kiddo?”
Kevin, looking scared, fell silent and nodded, his small frame trembling slightly. The kitchen felt like a pressure cooker, the tension thick in the air.
Chelsea sighed deeply, her eyes narrowing as she glanced at Peter.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“Such a strange wish, even for a child. It seemed like he genuinely fears we’ll split up. Is there something you need to tell me, Peter?”
Her voice had a sharp edge to it, a mix of worry and suspicion.
Peter raised his hands defensively. “What are you talking about, honey? You’re making a mountain out of a molehill again. He just misspoke, and you’re overreacting.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“Not just me—you saw the guests’ faces. They were all shocked,” Chelsea shot back, her frustration bubbling over. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.
Peter took a deep breath, trying to stay calm.
“I’ll go out and explain everything to them. You calm the boy down, okay? It’s a celebration; let’s celebrate,” he said, trying to defuse the situation.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
As Peter returned to the living room, Chelsea turned her full attention back to Kevin. She placed her hands on his small shoulders, feeling the tension in his body.
“Honey, your dad and I love each other very much and aren’t going to split up. Don’t worry, okay?” she said, her voice filled with as much reassurance as she could muster.
Kevin looked up at her, his eyes still filled with doubt. “Uh-huh…” he replied, still unsure and upset, nodding slightly.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
He wanted to believe his mom, but the fear lingered in his heart.
Chelsea pulled him into a gentle hug, stroking his hair. “It’s going to be okay, sweetheart. I promise,” she whispered, trying to soothe him.
But even as she said the words, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was deeply amiss.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Returning to the living room, Chelsea noticed the guests had resumed their conversations, and the situation seemed to have stabilized.
Laughter and chatter filled the air once again, and the festive atmosphere had returned, albeit with a lingering hint of unease.
Chelsea led Kevin to join the other children, who were now playing a game of musical chairs in a corner of the room.
“Play with the other kids while I go look for your dad, okay?” she said, smoothing Kevin’s hair gently.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“Okay,” Kevin replied, though he still looked a bit uncertain. He slowly made his way over to the other children, who welcomed him back with cheerful smiles and playful shouts.
Chelsea watched him for a moment, her heart heavy with concern, before turning to search for Peter.
She walked through the living room, scanning the crowd, but couldn’t find him anywhere.
She checked the kitchen, the hallway, and even peeked into the backyard where the clown was still entertaining the kids. No sign of Peter.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Feeling a growing sense of frustration, Chelsea returned to the living room and approached her friend Paige, who was chatting with a couple of other parents near the snack table.
“Quite the wish, wasn’t it?” Paige asked Chelsea with a humorous tone, raising an eyebrow. “Never a dull moment with kids, huh?”
“You can say that again,” Chelsea sighed, forcing a small smile. “Where did it come from? I know he’s just a kid, but it was so sudden…”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“Very sudden,” Paige agreed, nodding. “No one expected it. Has something happened between you and Peter?”
“No! Of course not!” Chelsea said quickly, then paused. “Well, we haven’t been talking much lately. He’s been busy with work, and I’ve been preoccupied with Kevin…”
“So something did happen?” Paige asked, her voice gentle but curious.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“Maybe… I don’t know,” Chelsea admitted, her shoulders slumping a little. “Maybe we had a small argument recently, and Kevin overheard. But nothing serious. I don’t think he’d make a wish like that over one argument.”
“It’s all very strange,” Paige said thoughtfully, glancing around the room. “Where’s Peter? Have you seen him?”
“He was just here,” Chelsea replied, frustration creeping into her voice. “He changed the topic so smoothly; I thought the party would be gloomy for the rest of the evening.”
“The party! Oh, I completely forgot the balloons for Kevin in the car! I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Chelsea said suddenly, remembering the colorful balloons she had left in the trunk of the car.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
She hurried toward the garage, her mind racing. As she approached the car, she started searching the trunk for the balloons.
Chelsea rummaged through the bags, the sound of crinkling plastic and rustling decorations filling the air.
Suddenly, she heard voices near the garage, coming from outside. Her heart skipped a beat, and she froze, straining to hear the conversation.
‘How does he know? And does Chelsea know?’ a voice whispered urgently.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“Shh! Quiet. He doesn’t know anything,” another voice hissed in response.
Hearing the whispers, Chelsea cautiously moved closer to listen, her pulse quickening. She peeked around the corner of the garage, holding her breath.
“Well, maybe he knows. It seems he saw us yesterday,” the first voice said, filled with anxiety.
“Yesterday? When Chelsea was at the store? You said no one was supposed to be home!” the second voice replied sharply, clearly frustrated.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“No one was, but Kevin came home from school early. So what? He’s just a kid. Chelsea doesn’t suspect anything.”
Chelsea’s blood ran cold as she heard these words. Her mind raced, trying to process the shock. She stepped out of the garage, her face a mix of anger and disbelief, and saw Peter with her sister, Lucy. They stood too close, their faces pale with guilt.
A flustered Peter saw her and immediately forced a smile. “Sweetheart, is something wrong? Do you need help with something?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“I heard everything!” Chelsea exclaimed, her voice trembling with rage.
Peter’s smile vanished. “What exactly? How long have you been standing there?” he stammered.
“Long enough,” Chelsea replied coldly. Her eyes narrowed, and she felt a surge of betrayal. “Listen, you’ve misunderstood. I can explain everything,” Peter began, but Chelsea cut him off.
“I don’t need your explanations, neither yours nor my spoiled, unemployed sister’s,” she snapped.
“Chelsea, please listen…” Peter pleaded, but Chelsea raised a hand to silence him.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“No, you listen to me. I don’t want to see either of you in my house ever again. Be gone in ten minutes,” she said with finality.
“And you, Peter, you’ll never see Kevin again. Good luck to you both.”
“Sweetheart, please wait. I’m sorry,” Peter begged, but Chelsea had already turned back to the house, her fury propelling her forward.
Inside, she gathered the guests and explained that the party was over and it was best for everyone to go home.
The guests, sensing the gravity of the situation, quickly gathered their things and left, murmuring words of sympathy.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
In one evening, the true nature of her perfect family was revealed. The reality hidden behind her husband’s and sister’s lies.
It was sad and painful, but at the same time, she understood that thanks to her son’s innocence, she learned the truth.
From this day forward, her new life without her terrible husband would begin.
After everyone left and Peter packed his things and drove away, Chelsea approached Kevin and gently hugged him.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“I’m sorry, honey. It seems not all wishes are meant to come true,” she said softly, her voice choked with emotion.
Kevin looked up at her, his eyes shining with tears. “The most important thing is that you’re here, Mom,” he whispered.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” Chelsea replied, holding him close. She knew they would face challenges ahead, but with Kevin by her side, she felt ready to face whatever came next.
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My Sister Betrayed Me Twice to Help Our Evil Father – Story of the Day

I never liked my own family—call it dysfunctional if you may. But I still couldn’t fathom how my sister would betray me like this, twice, even though I helped her and our father out.
Sometimes I wonder what would happen if I was born into a better family. You know, with better parents who actually know how to be parents? But you don’t always get what you want in life, isn’t it?
I can’t really blame my mother actually—she ran away from the family when I was just ten, presumably since my father was abusive and manipulative. I still wish she took me and my sister away with her at that time, but then again, it is what it is. Sometimes there’s no use in looking back at things and constantly thinking about “what could’ve been.”
That’s what my therapist kept telling me. Don’t look back on the things you can’t change and think about what could’ve been. Look forward, time is linear, there’s no going back.
But she also said writing it out might help—so here it is, I guess.

I grew up in a dysfunctional family | Source: Shutterstock
As I said, my father was an abusive and manipulative monster—self-centered, arrogant … he only cared about himself and the things that actually concerned him. Sometimes I wonder how come my mother actually married him. That’s something I’d never find out, I guess.
As for my younger sister Cheryl, you can probably understand what kind of person she’d grow up to be under such circumstances. We were close when we were kids—at least before everything happened —but after my mother ran away, it had gotten worse since then.
My father never liked me since I was a kid, but he hated me even more after my mother ran away. Why? I have no idea. He probably thought I was the reason why she ran away—he never thought it was his fault.
Well, he blamed the stripper when he was drunk sometimes, but it takes two to tango, isn’t it? Or that it took two to have a lapdance, in this context.
Anyway. My sister Cheryl.

Cheryl and I used to be close when we were kids | Source: Pexels
Ever since mother left, Cheryl became dad’s favorite, presumably since she was still too young to understand what happened. Since I was too old to be converted into daddy’s little girl at that time, he focused on Cheryl instead.
That’s what I meant when I said things began to go downhill from there—he and Cheryl began to gang up on me, alienating me in the house. It wasn’t pleasant, and to be honest, I don’t really want to go into details about what happened. Let’s just say I wish I had a more functional family.
Cheryl grew up to be a spoiled brat. That’s the thing about my father. He might be an absolute jerk of a person, but he wasn’t stupid. In fact, he made himself a fortune by setting up a trading company. It made sense though since he had every single trait of being a psychopathic CEO.
Chery, being daddy’s little girl of the family, had everything she needed and wanted—and even things she didn’t know she wanted. I can still remember the Gucci bag my father gave her when she was just 12. Can you believe that? A 12-year-old girl holding a Gucci bag?
Needless to say, Cheryl grew up to be a dysfunctional human being.

I remember how I used to smell like fast food every night after work | Source: Pexels
As for myself, I had to work hard for everything that I had. Since I wasn’t getting any allowances from my father, I began taking up part-time jobs here and there just to get by. I worked in McDonald’s, Wendy’s, and even handed out leaflets outside Sears at some point. I can still remember how I used to smell like French fries after my shifts. You just cannot get rid of that stench.
In a way, I am thankful for the experience, since all of these things taught me things I needed to know in life. It made me who I am—it taught me how to be resilient and got me through some dark times.
I moved out as soon as I could. I remember I was 18 at the time—it was a long and hot summer, and I packed up my things and went off to California in my old Honda Civic without even saying goodbye. I probably had $400 in my account at the time, but it was liberating. I can still remember the sweet summer breeze of youth and freedom along the Pacific Coast.

I found myself an IT job in California | Source: Pexels
Fast forward 10 years from there, I got my college degree and began working for an IT company. I wouldn’t say I had a great career, but I managed to have a decent life and save some money of my own. To be honest, I wouldn’t stay in IT if not for the money. But hey, we all gotta make a living somehow.
It was then when I received an email from Cheryl. I hadn’t spoken to her nor my dad since the day I moved out, not that they cared anyway. They could’ve reached out to me somehow, but they did not. Ten years, not a single message from them.
But surprise surprise, Cheryl actually asked me for help in the email. How things have changed, I thought to myself.
It started with a bunch of formal addresses like “Dear Emma,” “I hope this email finds you well,” and my favorite—“Sincerely yours.”

I received an email from Cheryl while at work one day | Source: Pexels
She was asking me for money since her kid got sick and needed surgery, but her ex-boyfriend ran away with some chicks and left her with nothing. She said she hadn’t been talking to dad for a few years already due to some argument … bla bla bla. That was why she needed my help.
I was hesitant at first, but then I opened the attachment in the email—it was a picture of my nephew. He was adorable.
After looking at that picture, I debated on what I would do—or rather, the right thing for me to do. You see, I might not like my family, but the kid was innocent. He shouldn’t be pulled into the whole family feud that we had.
After a night of turning over and over again in my bed, I decided to wire her the money.

Cheryl didn’t respond to my emails after I wired her the money | Source: Pexels
The next month I sent her an email, asking her if everything was alright with the kid—alas, no response.
So I did a bit of research and found out where she lived. Well, as it turned out, she didn’t move far—basically six or seven blocks from where we used to live. I decided to drop by and give her a visit.
It had been more than ten years since I left—but that’s the thing about small American towns … scenery might change, but people don’t. I can still recognize the same shops and people I used to know. Older, but not necessarily wiser.
Then, as if God intervened through some twisted manner, before getting to Cheryl, I bumped into an old classmate of mine who happened to know my family cause you know, small town.

I bumped into John at a gas station—it was truly a strange coincidence | Source: Pexels
John was a classmate of mine back then. His mother and my father were neighbors growing up, so he was kind of a family friend. He was beyond surprised when he saw me at the gas station.
“Hey. Is that you, Emma?” he said as he approached me from his car.
“ …John? God, could barely recognize you there, man,” I said.
“What brought you back here? Haven’t seen you in years,” he continued. “Came here to see your old man?”
I assumed he didn’t know what happened to my family all these years.
“Nah, just wanna check on Cheryl and my nephew,” I said, trying to shrug it off and make it sound as natural as I could.
“Your nephew? I didn’t know Cheryl had a kid,” responded John, with a pair of confused eyes. “That’s strange, I would’ve known since I live across the road from her,” he added.
Now things were getting weird.

John happened to live across the road from Cheryl | Source: Pexels
Out of curiosity, I asked John about my father after a brief explanation that we haven’t been talking for quite a few years.
“Yea, he goes over to Cheryl’s every weekend. His business partner screwed him over, I heard, so he lost quite a bit of money there. He seemed sad for a while but he seems alright now,” he said. “I think Cheryl managed to bail him out or something.”
“His partner screwed him over? When was that?”
“Maybe a month or two ago? I remember seeing him walking around Cheryl’s driveway, calling and cursing at his phone—must’ve been around that time.”
I decided to pay Cheryl a visit. I had to know what happened.

I knocked on Cheryl’s door, not entirely sure what I was expecting | Source: Pexels
So, I pulled up in front of Cheryl’s house, rang the doorbell, and she opened the door for me.
From the door I could see my father sitting in the living room, having a glass of wine in his hand—and no, I did not see any kid in the house.
Cheryl was surprised to see me there, as you can guess by now. “Emma? What’re you doing here?” she asked.
“Just trying to check up on my nephew,” I responded.
For a fleeting moment, I could see it in her eyes that she was trying to avoid the topic.
“Oh, a friend of mine is babysitting Anthony now,” she responded. “Do you want to come in? We haven’t seen you in years,” she added.
I was still hesitant at the time—just one step, and I could step inside the house and perhaps deal with all that trauma sown within me years ago. It was so close, that feeling of being able to make things right at last.
But I wasn’t ready. I told them I was a bit under the weather and got back into my car and drove to a nearby motel.

Unable to face Cheryl and my father, I drove to a motel nearby for the night | Source: Pexels
The next day I bumped into John again at a local diner. God certainly works in mysterious ways.
But it was a bit different this time—when he saw me at the diner he simply turned around without saying a single word.
That was strange, I thought to myself. Considering we were on good terms the whole time, there was something odd about it. I decided to walk towards him and asked him what’s up.
“Hey man, sup? Is everything alright?” I asked him when he sat down at his table.
He tried to avoid having eye contact with me, but I just stood there, utterly bewildered by his reaction.
“Hey, I know it’s none of my business, but I think you might need some help,” he said.
Now this just got way more confusing.
“What? Why? I don’t think I understand,” I said.
“Look, I talked to Cheryl last night, about her having a kid—she told me that … well, she told me why you left,” he said meekly.
“What? What did she say?”
“She said you were … imagining things, and they had to send you away to the hospital.”
“W—what? How?”

I bumped into John again in the diner, but I could tell that something was wrong | Source: Pexels
“She doesn’t have a kid and I don’t understand why you said she has. So last night I went over to her place and asked her about it, and she told me what happened,” he said, but then he paused for a moment. “She said you just showed up out of nowhere and started asking about her kid … Look, I don’t want any trouble here.”
That … wretched woman. I don’t know if I can still call her my sister anymore. Did she just throw me under the bus after all I did for her and presumably our father? Am I hallucinating? No, I was pretty sure I was not.
“Wait a second,” I said to John as he was about to leave. I then went through my inbox and showed the email to John. He looked at it and went quiet for a while. But at last, he responded.
“Look, it’s really none of my business, just leave me out of this,” he said, and he simply left the diner without touching his pancakes.

Here I am, back in San Francisco, wondering if I did the right thing | Source: Pexels
So here I am, back in San Francisco at my own apartment. I just drove all the way back here after that interaction with John—Lord knows what other folks in town were talking about right now. Can you imagine that? My very own sister, fabricating a lie so that I could save our father who never cared about me, and then throwing me under the bus and telling the folks that I was crazy? Seriously?
I am not sure how I should feel about it—I admit that writing it down did make me feel better. But still … I couldn’t help but wonder if it would have made a difference if I actually walked into the house and talked to them. Maybe I had a chance to change something? Maybe things wouldn’t end up the way they are now?
I don’t know. I really don’t know.
What can we learn from this story?
Sometimes we just have to let things go. It is what it is, sometimes there’s just nothing we can do about it. Let go and start living.
Look forward. We cannot change the past, whatever that is, but we can try and move on, one way or another.
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If you enjoyed reading this, you might also enjoy this one where a man sheltered a homeless woman and discovered who she really was.
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