A shift in behavior

As the weeks go by, I start to notice a change in Uncle Peter's behavior. At first, it's subtle. He'll touch my arm or shoulder when we're talking, or give me a pat on the back. It's not necessarily uncomfortable, but it's definitely different from how he used to interact with me.

I try to brush it off, telling myself I'm just being paranoid. But as the days go by, the touches become more frequent. He'll put his hand on my knee when we're sitting on the couch, or give me a hug that lasts just a little too long.

I start to feel uneasy, but I'm not sure how to address it. I don't want to accuse Uncle Peter of anything, but at the same time, I don't like the way he's making me feel.

Meanwhile, Uncle Peter's behavior is changing in other ways too. He starts staying out late, often not coming home until well after midnight. And when he does come home, he often smells of alcohol.

Mom and Dad seem to notice the change in him too, but they don't say much. They just exchange worried glances, and try to reassure me that everything is fine.

But everything is not fine. I can feel the tension in the air, and I know that something is wrong.

One night, I'm awoken by the sound of Uncle Peter stumbling into the house. I hear him laughing and muttering to himself, and I know that he's been drinking heavily.

I lie in bed, feeling anxious and scared. What is going on with Uncle Peter? And why is no one doing anything to stop him?

As I drift off to sleep, I know that I need to talk to someone about what's going on. But who can I talk to?

As the days go by, I can sense the tension in the air. Mom and Dad are trying to navigate the situation with Uncle Peter, but it's clear that they're struggling.

One evening, I overhear them talking in hushed tones in the kitchen. They're discussing Uncle Peter's behavior, and trying to come up with a plan to help him.

"We need to talk to him,," Mom says. "He's not taking care of himself, and it's affecting all of us."

"I know, dear," Dad replies. "But we have to be careful. He's going through a tough time, and we don't want to push him away."

"I understand that," Mom says. "But we can't just sit back and do nothing. We need to try and help him get his life back on track."

Dad nods in agreement. "You're right. Let's try and talk to him, and see if we can get him to open up about what's going on."

The next day, Mom and Dad sit down with Uncle Peter and try to have a conversation with him. They ask him about his behavior, and try to get him to talk about what's going on.

But Uncle Peter is resistant. He becomes defensive and agitated, and refuses to listen to their concerns.

"I'm fine, okay?" he says. "I don't need your help. I just need some time to figure some things out."

Mom and Dad exchange worried glances, but they try not to push the issue. They realize that Uncle Peter is not ready to listen, and that they need to try a different approach.

Over the next few weeks, Mom and Dad try to help Uncle Peter in other ways. They offer to help him find a job, and even go so far as to set up interviews for him.

But despite their best efforts, nothing seems to work out. Uncle Peter either doesn't show up for the interviews, or he performs poorly and doesn't get hired.

Mom and Dad are at a loss. They're not sure what to do, or how to help Uncle Peter. They're starting to feel frustrated and helpless, and I can sense the tension in the air.

As for me, I'm trying to stay out of the way. I don't want to get caught in the middle of the conflict, and I'm not sure how to navigate the situation.

But as the days go by, I realize that I need to do something. I need to try and talk to Uncle Peter, and see if I can get through to him.

I'm not sure what I'll say, or how he'll react. But I know that I need to try. For my sake, and for the sake of our family.

One night as I am getting ready for bed, I hear the door to my room open. I turn to see Uncle Peter walking in, a smile on his face.

"Hey, kiddo," he says. "I just wanted to see how you're doing."

I feel a surge of annoyance. "Uncle Peter, you should knock before coming into my room," I say, trying to sound firm.

Uncle Peter looks taken aback. "Oh, sorry Kate. I didn't mean to intrude."

I nod, still feeling a bit uncomfortable. "It's okay. Just please knock next time."

Uncle Peter nods and turns to leave. But as he reaches the door, he turns back to me.

"Hey, Kate?" he says.

"Yeah?" I reply.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" he asks.

I hesitate, feeling a bit unsure. But Uncle Peter looks serious, so I nod.

"Okay," I say. 

Uncle Peter walks back into my room and sits down on the edge of my bed. I feel a bit uncomfortable with him sitting there, but I try to push the feeling aside.

"Kate, I wanted to talk to you about something," Uncle Peter says, looking serious. "I know I've been staying with you guys for a while now, and I appreciate it. But I feel like I'm starting to get in the way."

I shake my head. "No, Uncle Peter, you're not in the way. We're happy to have you here."

Uncle Peter smiles. "Thanks, Kate. That means a lot to me. But I still feel like I need to start pulling my weight around here. You know, get a job and start contributing."

I nod. "That's a great idea, Uncle Peter. I'm sure Mom and Dad would be happy to help you find a job."

Uncle Peter nods. "Yeah, I'll talk to them about it. Thanks for listening, Kate."

As Uncle Peter gets up to leave, I feel a bit relieved. I'm glad he's thinking about getting a job and starting to take care of himself.

But as he reaches the door, he turns back to me. "Hey, Kate?"

"Yeah?" I reply.

"Can I ask you something?" Uncle Peter says, looking serious.

"Sure," I say, feeling a bit curious.

"Do you think I'm a good person?" Uncle Peter asks, looking at me intently.

I'm taken aback by the question. "What do you mean, Uncle Peter?" I ask.

"I mean, do you think I'm a good influence on you and Eniola?" Uncle Peter asks.

I hesitate, unsure of how to answer. Part of me wants to say yes, that Uncle Peter is a good person. But another part of me is unsure.

"I think you're trying to be a good person, Uncle Peter," I say finally.

Uncle Peter nods, looking thoughtful. "Thanks, Kate. That means a lot to me." Good night.

 Good night uncle P, I say. 

 Uncle Peter hesitated at the door before walking out and shutting it behind him.

 I quickly stood up and ran to lock my room door, what is this feeling of uneasiness??