The Starving Child

Summary

I was my mother's little "feeding doll."

Whenever my younger sister refused to eat, my mom would put a freshly cooked meatball in my bowl.

Once my sister started craving it, the meatball would be snatched away and fed to her instead.

My mom always said, "Your sister is delicate. You’re the older sister, you need to be sensible."

The year I turned eight, it was the last meatball again.

My mom smiled and brought it to my lips. For some reason, as if possessed, I swallowed it whole.

My mom slapped me hard across the face, knocking me out of my chair.