I’ve repeatedly said that my sister hated me and that my mother kept us apart but I thought of something the other day. What if she knew how I really felt about her? What if she knew despite all I did to help out that I resented the fact that she didn’t fight more? What if she knew behind my smile, behind my helpful hand was disgust and anger because she couldn’t be more like me? What if she knew? Maybe that’s part of the reason she hated me so because she did know.
I’d chase kids and pull them off her. I’d beat them up but then go home and yell at her for being so weak! Oh I was so angry that she never stood up for herself and left it up to me. While hitting those kids I was furious that they had the nerve to touch my big sister. Who did they think they were and why did they think they’d get away with it? Here’s a kick to the stomach and a fist to the mouth. Think about that the next time you want to put your hands on my big sister. But I’d turn around and go home angry, cursing and screaming (much like my mother) that she ran like a coward, that she cried and backed down.
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