S t a r i n g at the cursor blink feels like all I can do. I can't quite comprehend how I got to this p l a c e.
"Get the fuck out."
That's all I remember him saying, and her leaving quickly, complaining. Saying goodbye. Insanely fake, like I didn't mean anything I was saying to her. I miss when things were normal and we didn't have to spend time walking on egg shells, in our own home. More of a household. A home is more or less characterized as a place of enjoyment or where you can go to relax.
"It's never been this bad." S h e' s finally gone, and my father can breath again. I don't blame him. He finally stated what had been building up and bothering him for years now.
It's been bad, but not this terrible. It's been bad but not to the point where I am terrified of what she may do next. It has been bad, but not to the point where I thought my entire life would be defined on one afternoon of drunken fights and checking up on her in my parents bedroom to make sure everything is alright at 4:00 when she is still in bed.
I feel bad for my younger brother. I go out with friends and try to dismiss the thoughts flowing through the mind of mine that works almost 24/7. And when I am with those people who I love, it feels like I forget for a split second. Like they are the family I chose. He doesn't have many people to talk to about everything. I want to be here for him when she calls him worthless. And I aspire to be the best older sister; I hope when I move out this year, things finally heal.
"What is going to happen when I leave?" I ask my little brother. Slowly, almost dreading what he has to say. "If things get bad, we will figure it out. I love you. You & I will always be family."