But The Quest for Beauty is a Beast. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Broken Doors, A Safety Net Loss I think I sometimes don't realize how angry I am until I actually do something. Last night I lay sick in bed, worn out from high blood sugar and bulimia. My brother, in his room with his friend, exclaimed, "Lazy fat bastards, Dim and Jori, never do shit around this house!" I called to him, but he ignored me. So I went and knocked on his door. "I need to talk to you!" I said it in a calm manner. I had cleaned the house for five hours, while he missed two days of school goofing around at a college, skateboarding and dropping chairs out the window, almost getting himself arrested. Lately he has been such a brat. He began to chant a tune about how Jori and I were lazy and didn't do shit around the house, (She had a kidney stone and was still going to work at a full time job) how we were bastards, and a bunch of other cruel insults. I body slammed the door, and he and his friend Steven stood behind it snickering, saying, "Ha! We aren't going to let you in!" Anger built up inside of me. Lately I have been purchasing the groceries with my own money, cleaning up after him, defending him, and this is what happens... I slammed into it again, and again. A crack built up. My mom came out of her room, and yelled at me, "What is going on?" This only made me even more angry. I slammed into it again, and the whole door fell in. "You are fucking crazy! Bitch!" With that, my brother took off. I dissappeared into the backyard, and no one noticed until Jori said something. She found me, but, because my mom had called Paul to come yell at me, I made her promise not to tell. I sat in the rain for an hour, at which point she called the police, so I decided it best to come in. They came, and looked at me, then at the door. "YOU did this!?" They couldn't believe it. "Yes." Is all I could really say, shame in my voice. They took my mom outside, and asked her if I was on meds. "It didn't take her two months to get this way!" No, it didn't. It took years. Today, my mom and Paul are driving out of town to get Alex a new door. Mine barely sits on its' hinges, as my mom broke it a year ago, but I don't get a new one. Jori and I call Alex the "Little Prince." His bottom will always be wiped, his spoon silver, his napkin cloth. God forbid the Little Prince not have every want and need he desires. Yes, I am ashamed. But I am also livid. Livid that I never do enough, and that Alex is free to do whatever he wants. At least soon I will be free of this Hell... And at least slowly I am losing weight... That is all I have to hang on to, my safety net, a loss. 4:58 a.m. - 2003-11-09 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------- |
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