The Child Left Behind

Synopsis

My daughter, Debra, stayed back in the countryside, while my son grew up right by my side in Ovine. When Debra was seven, she ran after my car, sobbing and stumbling, falling over again and again. I didn't turn back. I just watched her become a tiny speck in the distance. When Debra was nine, my mother-in-law from the countryside called, saying Debra kept crying because she missed me so much. I didn't really care. I said, "She'll be fine in a couple of years." When Debra turned eighteen, I wasn't there for her birthday. She didn't ask me for a birthday gift like she always did before. It took me ten days to realize. I felt relieved, thinking she'd finally matured and become more understanding. When Debra turned twenty-three, she should have been getting married, but her wedding never happened. Instead, what I received was a diagnosis. Debra had always been terrified of pain, and now she'd lost all her hair. She didn't cry or throw tantrums at me anymore, and even her favorite sweets couldn't cheer her up. She became so understanding, but it was I who ended up in tears.