12 december 1999 |
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it's their battle, not mine.
but still, it's hard to be in the middle of the crossfire, especially having accepted a role as the peacemaker. i remember standing between my brothers, screaming at them to stop. ricky would yell back, telling me it was none of my business. tom would pat me on my head, telling me it was okay. and then i would be shoved aside while they continued to throw punches. i also remember hugging my mom, begging her not to cry. i would scowl at my dad and ask him to do what he was supposed to. they would fight, and i would slip inside my bedroom, shut the door and muffle the unbearable noise by hiding my head under my pillow.
they are being so stupid, i'd think to myself. they think i am so young (and i was). they think i don't understand (but i did).
but there was nothing i could do for them then, and there's nothing i can do now. in some ways, i think i will always be the little girl to them, scrambling to make things right.
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