The happiest event in my family took place a few years after I was born. The birth of my younger brother. With his toothless chuckles, big bright eyes, and small fingers that clutched my hair with superhuman strength, he was the new favorite in the house. While I was the victim to my mother’s frustration, that little creature always received my mother’s smile.
I was no longer the one my father scooped up to hug. It was that little bundle of unadulterated evil. From his first words to his first steps, nothing went unnoticed. All that did was my entire existence.
I despised him. I despised that bright child with the greatest smile, I despised the way he smiled a little brighter every time I let him clutch my pinky tightly with all his tiny fingers, I despised how he was allowed to eat my chocolates, and how cute everyone found the R’s he replaced with W’s. But mostly, I despised how I was not allowed to put him up for adoption (not that I never tried).
It was one bright sunny afternoon where it seemed like nothing could go wrong, yet, everything did. My brother had flu and my mother was worried beyond words. Weirdly enough, I was too, even though it was nothing serious.
It was the same day when my results came out, and I genuinely hoped my mother would beam with pride. She didn’t. She was preoccupied. With what? With that solitary thing that had kept her occupied for as long as it existed: my brother.
If utter fury was a grenade, that event just pulled the trigger and BOOM! I went back to my room crying, only to see my brother grabbing more KitKats in his hands than I thought was possible. Considering the KitKats as a metaphor for everything that was taken away from me, I yelled at him until he started sobbing. Followed up with more prickly yellings from my mother, I was hit by her wails in the room.
With trembling fingers and tear-filled eyes, I ran to the roof, mentally listing all the things I should take with me while leaving home, forever. I cried for what seemed like hours before I felt a pair of tiny warm hands wiping my tears away. He handed a KitKat to me sheepishly and said, “I’m sowie.” I wanted to correct him for the 7899th time but his big bright eyes that were now red and puffy because of all the crying that I had caused, made me do something I had never done before.
I hugged him really, really tight for a long time before I started tickling him. Him crying broke my heart into tiny little pieces. Between muffled giggles, he said, “You are the best sister in the world.” And this changed our lives forever.
Now that I can’t see him being a dork and running away from girls shyly in front of my eyes, I realize how much I miss him. I hope he never finds out just how much. After millions of fights and shared KitKats, now I know that this planet would have been a grey, mundane place to live without that little bundle of unadulterated joy.
Edited by Victoria Lee
thewoodstocker.com 