Big Sister

Two more years of even more trauma given by someone who was suppose to protect you and love you. I could not understand which pissed me off even more. She beat me until I was fifteen. I was fifteen taking care of a five year old while my father broke his back working to pay bills and keeping us alive. My mother already went through half the towns husbands. The town started casting our family out. We always got dirty looks and called names even if we were just getting our mail. Our mother defeated us and now the town is taking its own licks. We just never got an luck.

Day after day, we dreaded waking up. I hated getting out of bed to walk past a empty soul in the hallway or walk in a classroom of judgmental teenagers who had no idea the disease of a mother I have had for the past five years. I remember waking up one morning, feeling the same as usual. Id get a shower and get semi ready. Then id wake up Derek, get him ready for kindergarten. Id fix his cereal, tie his shoes, brush his hair, and even made sure he got on his bus. The schools were all on the same land, but our buses where different. Derek hated that. He cried the first few weeks of school because I could not get on the same bus with him. I'm not surprised that people in town thought I got knocked up at thirteen. But sadly, I was just his sister doing everything our mother was suppose to do. He didn't get the mother I started out with, so I made damn sure he got at least a good role model. He was my world. Day in and day out I was his mother. I made sure he was okay. I woke up in the middle of the night when he had nightmares. I did everything. I don't regret anything, but I know it wasn't my job to do any of it.