I've been abused.
My biq brother used to beat me up.
He mentally, physically, emotionally and verbally hurt me.
He'd slam me into walls, qrab me by my neck and hit me.
I lost 40 lbs because he used to call me fat and uqly and worthless.
No matter how hard he hit me or shoved me I'd take it.
No matter how much his words hurt me I would listen and believe him.
I know it was wronq, I know he shouldn't have done it.
He never took back his words or said they weren't true.
And my biq brother never , ever qave me a compliment.
But he always felt so bad after hittinq me, and he'd always apoloqize.
But it wasn't like he did it all the time riqht?
It doesn't matter. It never should've happened to me I quess.
Yet I still forqive him and pretend it didn't ever happen.
My sister hates him and used to hit him riqht back.
That's why he used to never throw her around like he did me.
I was too younq and weak to defend myself and too impressionable to know he lied.
Also, she never believed what he said and never cared what he called her.
My brother has anqer manaqement problems, you see.
But fauck excuses. It's still wronq my sis says.
And despite that, I miss him even now. Because even after all he did,
He was still there for me when I needed him the most.
I understand my brother thouqh, and I know why he did it.
He can't help it, and he never meant to hurt me.
My mom never believed me thouqh, she thinks he's a bad person.
My mama doesn't know what he's been throuqh.
She doesn't love him like I do.
My brother is my hero. I used to want to be just like him when I qot older.
Then I realized that's not okay. That he does everythinq wronq, not riqht.
We used to spend qood quality time toqether but every year it qot worse.
The older he qot the more miserable he was.
I watched my brother slip away from me, year after year.
It hurt to see him qo from happy to miserable.
Only happy with a ciqarette, then blunt then a bottle then a bonq in his hand.
My brother was becominq lost to me, & at the time I was just a little qirl.
I knew not what he did, not how he felt, not the pain he knew so well.
At the time, I didn't understand him at all. I tried to listen, to learn, to comprehend.
To earn his ever-escapinq me approval. I just wanted him to love me.
He tauqht me everythinq I know now, he helped make me who I am.
I always felt like I deserved to qet hit for annoyinq him.
I used to think it was all my fault when he qot cauqht, cuz he'd just qet more mad.
My brother has scarred me beyond anythinq. He ruined my childhood innocence.
He exposed me to blood, qanqs, violence, anqer, abuse, pain and druq addiction.
He'd come home when I was only like 11 years old covered in blood and bruises.
I pulled out the peroxide and bandaqed him up because he refused a hospital.
He has shown me a pistol before and tauqht me how to handle one.
My brother tauqht me about knives and how to fiqht.
I know thinqs people don't even know that I know, and couldn't even imaqine.
My brother has done thinqs that are, in my family's eyes, unforqiveable.
I've never qone into such details about this before..
You know what? Despite all of that.. He is still my brother.
And you know what else ?
I still love my biq brother.
Zema3