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Yearbook Faces: The End

This last part of the story is a bit of a long one. Its hard to get all my thoughts together when I myself couldn’t comprehend what was happening.  So much was happening, my world was shifting and it was moving at velocities that I couldn’t catch up with.

My older brother was repeating the year and had gotten his girlfriend pregnant, they would both be parents soon and they would argue… a lot. My younger brother was in a state of depression that not even I could understand, he was cutting, ran away from home, had stayed in an asylum for months. My mom had my younger sister to care for, my father would come home from working crazy hours to hear my mother bicker with one of us three.

One day we were at Daisy’s house and her mom noticed my brother’s wrist with scars, she told him to stop hurting himself as he walked away. We left the house after some time and my mom yelled at him the whole way home I took it as any other argument since things were bad at home. I put on my head phones blasting Mozart to calm myself down. We got to the house and things began to escalate quickly, my mother went up to his room and started shifting through his things like a tornado,  I walked in and began to help her. I knew what she was looking for so I didn’t bother asking, she was looking for a blade something sharp. She had asked my younger brother what was he using and he wouldn’t open his mouth. All we found was an abandoned blade from a pencil sharpener, and she wasn’t buying that’s what he had used. She went back downstairs and yelled for another half an hour, I stayed upstairs in fear that my brother would go back to the asylum.

Soon enough I heard my dad walk in coming home from work, my dad is a calm simple man, I rarely ever heard him yell. That night was one of those rare occasions, he told him to take down his hood off his head and asked what was he using my brother stubborn as he was stayed quiet until my dad started yelling. My dad said he was going to send him back since that’s what he wanted. I kept my ear to the floor to listening to anything that happened, and I cried myself to sleep. The next morning everyone was quiet and my brother was home. I don’t know what happened or what was said I was just happy he was with us. He later on had therapy to help him with his issues, I think my parents handled it as well as they knew how.

They didn’t understand what he was thinking and I don’t think they handled it wrong I had to think to myself what would I do, and that answer would have been the same.

A side from all the tension at home, things weren’t getting better at school, or with Dean. We were all getting ready for what was to come after high school and Dean was still questioning if he would even pass, he wouldn’t. Dean had meant a lot to me but he was getting in the way of himself and I tried helping as much as I could. He just had no self motivation and I was tired of pushing someone who wasn’t going to bother to make an effort. I told him I couldn’t do it anymore ending my relationship with him. He was heart broken and the more he pressed on to stay with him, the more I realized he truly loved me.

I felt like I was dying, I couldn’t eat, I could barely get up, I didn’t know what to do. Dean had a friend…Jess who was helping me get through it all, he was my shoulder to cry on. He was the friend I went to when I was deciding to break up with Dean, he told me we had been together for years and that we made a cute couple to try and make an effort. I told him cute didn’t solve the problems and that I just couldn’t anymore. When me and Dean split Jess had made a quick move I told him I couldn’t it was too soon and it would break Dean. I was with Jess for maybe two days, and I think I got with him because I felt like I needed someone. Jess in those two days approached Dean telling him I was with him. Right after I found out I told Jess I couldn’t, that I still had feelings for Dean. He agreed to call off our very short relationship because he had feelings for my brothers baby’s mom. (I don’t know the whole story behind that)

Me and Dean were still talking after the break up and I had approached him to tell him I was wrong and that I still wanted to be with him. I decided to make this confession at the very end of the hallway were I would learn about karma. Right as I am about to tell Dean, I see a girl…Haley and she goes running into Deans arms. He had moved on thinking I had. My stomach was in knots and my head was as dizzy as a drunken man’s. I got the sour feeling that Josh had felt on that very same hallway. After that me and Dean argued a lot to the point of not talking at all. My best friend Teresa had told me he told her that he didn’t know what to do about Haley that she had mental issues and he was scared of leaving her, he was scared she’d commit suicide.

I don’t remember how it started but I ended up in a bad love triangle between me, Dean, and Haley. It was a lot of talking then arguing, then talking, and arguing some more.

I had signed up for Mariachi and made Dean sign up with me when we were together, we both played the trumpet together and we were the only trumpet players in the group. He stopped showing up until one day, he came late. I was so furious I told him if he wasn’t going to come to just tell me that way I didn’t get my hopes up that I would actually play together with somebody. He told me that he was with Haley and that he no longer wanted to drag me around. I burst into tears feeling it hard to breathe, he packed his trumpet and walked out the room, the instructor tried to ask where was he going but he could already tell what happened.  Dean had walked out and that was the last time I would talk to him for a while.

Mariachi saved my life, I started failing class and I had lost hope, I let a boy get to me. My mom would yell at me in disappointment, I had to retake classes I had failed in night school. Mariachi was an after school program so I wouldn’t get home till seven, which was perfectly fine with me, I didn’t want to go home and get yelled at for my grades or get asked a million questions as to what happened with Dean. I had fallen in love with music again, it was my sanctuary once more. The sound of the violins, guitars, and my trumpet harmonizing as one numbed my pain and put me at peace.

After some time Jess had texted me to check on me, he would stay for band practice when I stayed for mariachi so I would see him often. We became close friends and soon enough we fell for each other this time without the haziness of our own issues, but Jess was already in bad terms with my brother and parents, since he had a past with my brothers baby’s mom. He asked me every day to be with him, and constantly flirt with me. There was too much bad blood with him and my family that it could never be.

He had charm I’ll give him that, and he walked around with such confidence with everything he’d say and do. The day I gave into him is the day I knew I was digging my own grave. I was on my way to the lunch room to meet up with my friend…Dave. I was walking by the lockers when a hand pulled me back pushing me against a locker, suddenly I was face to face with Jess and his other arm was blocking my only way of escape. I tried not to make eye contact with him because his eyes were hypnotic, it was as if he was staring into your soul and my heart would melt with his look. He moved his face closer to mine and told me how he regretted not meeting me first, to avoid all the bad blood with my brother and parents so that we could have just a chance at a normal relationship. Then he asked me again with those big brown eyes to be with him and I fell into it. I told him our relationship would have an expiration date, because we just have too much going against us.

He looked at me with a smile and asked if I’m serious, and leans in to kiss me. My relationship with Jess was something else. We were a ticking bomb and I think that’s why we didn’t spend much time arguing, we tried making every moment last as long as we could. He was a music major and so was I, we both liked a lot of the same things. He had an incredible smile, a dorky lovable smile that would make everything feel right. My parents would late find out that we were together because someone would tell my brother they saw us together and then he would go and tell my parents. So we kept it a secret even at school. I would lie to my parents and tell them I was at friends house when I was really with him. We didn’t have any issues except his past, his past was catching up to us.

My parents had found out I was lying to them and wouldn’t let me go out at all. My ticking bomb had come to an end. He broke up with me, and at the moment I was furious I wanted to smack him I wanted to unleash all hell on him. I had risked so much to be with him, my relationship with my parents, my relationship with my brother, the chance of going out with my friends… all for nothing. But that wasn’t true, me and Jess still talk to this day and when we want back to talk about it, I couldn’t hate him anymore. He hated seeing me treated the way I was by my family, he hated seeing me so upset. He said he rather set me free and be happy with someone else than see the torture my mother was putting me through. So just like that  my relationship with Jess had to come to a stop like I had said in the beginning of it.

After Jess I think I had to stop doing lots of things for a while. I had introduced him to one of my favorite male singers Michael Buble and he had fallen in love with him. He was in Jazz band so he loved his music. I had to stop listening to music all together let alone pick up any instrument and play it. Depression would hit me hard, anxiety became a part of my life. Things I knew nothing about, so I  just felt like I was going crazy. My mom would yell at me because I wasn’t going to college and telling me to get  a job.

I spent months trying to heal, and after months I was ready to get hurt again. I started dating a very handsome boy who I had a crush on for couple of years. His name was,…Josue. He played guitar, listened to rock music, had a very chill vibe around him. Reason why? He was usually high. Which I didn’t judge him for, he could do what ever he wanted as long as it wasn’t harming anyone. After a month I had started my very first job and unfortunately Dean had started talking to me again. He had knocked up somebody and she had gotten an abortion and it had left him traumatized. I was trying to talk to him, help him cheer up and move on with his life.

Josue one day went through my phone when I wasn’t around and saw the messages, and started suspecting  I had feelings for him. I told him all I do is sleep and go to work and that I was done with Dean. It had happened again and first he asked me to give him head, I had refused and then that’s when he broke up with me. He had played that lets just be friends card, I yelled at him to get out of my  house and he did when he heard my brother running down. Just the way he dumped me was very douchy. His smoking had become a problem for me anyway he came over high in front of my parents and grandma and then minutes of him arriving he would leave. He was lying to his mom saying he was with me when in reality he was off smoking, at least that’s what he told me.

After that me and Dean began to date again, if you call it dating. We mostly only texted each other. He wouldn’t want to go out with me, I knew something was up I just couldn’t accept it. Dean worked at my local Jewel and so did Teresa my best friend from high school. She later told me that he was cheating on me with girls from work,… I didn’t need proof nor did I ask for it, because something in me just knew all along. When I confronted him about it he yelled at me saying if I wanted to believe rumors that was fine. I ended it and any conversation with him, that was the last time I ever spoke to him. I felt so gross for  having to walk around in denial and not being real with myself, for wasting my time with him.

Jess later confirmed that he was cheating, he said he felt bad for not telling me sooner. I don’t know what happened to Dean, Jess and Teresa say hes still around the area, I hope I never see him. I think he was my first true love, the toxic one that makes you go crazy. Jess was my second the one that could never be, no matter what. My last and final love, the one that teaches you more about yourself than any other love. Simple, different, the one you never see coming. Well that was Logan, my fiance.

Yearbook Faces: Echoing Melodies

Like an alcoholic I let the sound and touch of the piano intoxicate me letting  it run through my veins numbing all my troubles. The tears would dry and my face would fall with no expression. All the chatter and movement around me would evaporate and the only sound that remained was the tapping of my fingers and Tchaikovsky’s sweet melody blaring through my headphones. This…was my sanctuary.

When I was younger my parents had put me in violin classes, I don’t remember the reason but I hated it. I couldn’t take the teacher seriously as she would skip around I didn’t know a horse could play the violin until I saw her. My parents tell me that I had refused to play the violin and that I wanted to play the piano, but they didn’t want to waste more time on something I would most likely drop. While I was busy being bullied in middle school my teacher wanted to teach about music theory paring us up on a keyboard but the kids were so childish my teacher gave up and had us just clapping notes.

When I had reached high school I didn’t hesitate to sign up for piano classes, I took a bigger step and made it into my major for school. This is would be the greatest gift I were to ever receive, the gift of music. Classes started at 7:30am and everyday I would try to make it even sooner to try making it before the class, so that I could play the piano with out headphones and just listen to the music I played in a silent room. The class was two periods long and an optional break in between. I never took it, I played for those two hours nonstop. Around the last days of school when everyone was skipping school to go to the the beach I showed up and continued to play.

Josh may have been my first boyfriend but music was my first love. A love that would make me feel safe and happy, a love that had to help me when I was in my worst, a love that would make me proud.

In grade school despite my personal issues I had kept my grades at its highest and my mom do to my grandmothers passing never acknowledged it, making me feel worthless. I had worked hard and when it came to high school I figured what was the point when I would go unnoticed. Until my piano teacher…Ms. Green, would tell me the words I longed to hear.

It was my third year and she was going to retire at the end of school year, I was devastated. She wanted me to play my progress for her, the piece she had given me, Claire De Lune by Claude Debussy. My hands shaking with nerves and sweating with anticipation, I began to glide my fingers through the keys. To my surprise I begin to hear a noise following my playing, and my eyes begin to swell up with tears, she was humming to the tune. My fingers stop tapping and I quickly rub my eyes playing off a tired sleepiness to my composure so that she would not see how I really felt. She looks at me with a soft expression and tells me that it was beautiful. That she had me for three years and she had seen my progress as a pianist, that she was proud of me. When she spoke those words I had to bite my lip to keep my tears back. I was an emotional wreck, I just nodded and kept playing for the rest of the class.

I owe her my life for giving me that gift the first day I had started high school, and she taught me how to use that gift for three years. I regret not telling her how much she meant to me, how much she had done for me, how much she had changed my world, and how thankful I was for it….

She had believed in me enough to perform a solo in the school concert, in that huge auditorium lights blaring at my face making it impossible to see the audience. When my nerves got the best of me I looked over at her and she signaled me to continue and so I did. Even though I had messed up several times she told me I had done great and to be proud of myself for doing the solo. She was my greatest inspiration, I wanted to be just like her. But she was to leave, and I would no longer have piano my last year, the year I needed it the most. They had replaced my piano keys with a choir teacher that was so full of himself, a marimba, a guitar, and a trumpet.

My last year I had spent most my time at the performing arts building, I had percussion class, choir, art, and guitar. Soon enough I would also take a leap at a very cultural group, mariachi.

Mariachi saved my life, in school and outside of school. Things were horrible at home, my love life was a mess, friends…hilarious, school…failing, and I would soon learn my greatest nightmare. Mariachi had open up my heart to music again. After losing piano I was depressed for months. My guitar class was a joke, my choir teacher was a narcissist, percussion wasn’t that bad but it made me miss piano more. When I was in Mariachi I was happy, I had learned so much about not just how to play the trumpet but how beautiful the songs actually were. It helped me connect with my dad as of course he was excited for me he liked hearing me practice at home.

When the world was crushing my soul I was excited to stay after school because I had found my medicine again. Despite me being at school from 7am to 6pm, I wanted…I needed to feel the same intoxicating feeling again. I needed the music to numb all the pain. I needed to feel proud of something, I needed to feel like I was doing something right. My instructor made sure I knew I was, he had told me I was one of his fastest learning student when it came to the trumpet. When we would perform so many people were excited to hear us, we even got an encore once.

I was happy to be in that group but unfortunately the program only allowed high school students and I had to graduate. I had to grow up and deal with my monsters, I couldn’t run away from them anymore. I had nothing to numb the pain, which left me to lose my mind.

Yearbook Faces: Friendships and Lovers

A joy that filled my heart and then drowned it some more, that’s what love felt like. Everything would suddenly slow down and stop just for the two of us, but time doesn’t really stop and the world keeps turning. Your story keeps changing because nothing lasts forever.

High school was going to be a chance to make things better for myself after everything that had happened in grade school, no bullies, no one I knew, a chance at friendship. Unfortunately every one at school had their clicks figured out already since most of the high school’s freshman class consisted of two elementary schools. Everyone had friends already but I wasn’t going to sit by myself for another week and become the weird kid again. So I mustard up some confidence and walked up to a table were two girls sat, a punk gothic looking chick and a more everyday basic one. Hands sweaty with nerves I ask them if I can sit with them and the basic girl made me regret it instantly, she looks at me up and down and says sure. After a while they include me in their conversation and the punk chick stops showing up to lunch leaving me alone with the basic girl who I later on adopt as my best friend. Her name was…Teresa, she still tells me to this day that she didn’t like me when I approached them but now we attend each others family events.

Things were looking up I had made my very first true friend and soon enough I would meet a boy who would catch my heart. He was out of the ordinary, he was a singer, a bit nerdy, and was color blind (I don’t know to what extent). Josh…was his name instantly flirted with me in my algebra class, I didn’t know how to react I never had a boy show interest in me. Soon enough he was walking me to my classes and blowing up my phone. When I was with John it was more of a school only relationship, we never saw each other out of school walls. But that didn’t stop him every night he would call my house phone and we would stay up talking for hours. He’d sing romantic songs to me over the phone and would call me the next day in the morning if he couldn’t call me the night before.

Things went well, I had learned to smile again, until the summer, Josh stopped replying to my texts and phone calls, completely. I had waited for a month until I had finally accepted he probably wanted nothing to do with me. Another month had passed and I got a message from him telling me he had gotten into something bad and that I would probably never see him again, to move on. I had tried calling after that message but he didn’t respond, I sent a message and still no response.

I had made another friend…Jenna she helped me from Josh’s wound and lifted me up over that summer. I had spent a lot of time with Jenna and her friend…Dean. They both kept my mind off of Josh, especially Dean. I soon fell for him, and had confessed my feelings for him at a Kmart. I remember walking through the isles with my brother when I sent the message. My heart was racing scared of what his response would be, and when I had read that he shared the same feelings for me I couldn’t stop smiling the whole ride home. We clicked instantly he was a sweet nerdy boy who played the saxophone very well.

School had started and it would be of course the very first day that I see Josh in the hallway. My heart sank and my stomach was in knots, what was he doing here? He asked if he could walk me to the next class so we could talk. He asked very formal questions, how was I doing, what class did I have next, and that he had missed me. I quickly told him my class was upstairs and that was as far as he could walk me. This corner of the hallway will haunt me for life because it showed me that karma did exist and that it was a bitch. At that split second Dean had turned the corner and saw me and only me, he rushed to me without warning hugging me hard spinning me turning me away from Josh. But at the corner of my eye I could see Josh look at Dean with such anger and jealousy and walked away sadly. After what he did to me over the summer I couldn’t help but smile, I had thought, he was stupid to think I’d run back to him after dumping me in a text.

After that I didn’t see much of Josh and later on as the years went by we had agreed to just be friendly. He had a girlfriend and I was happy with Dean, for some time. There was a downside to Dean he was a little behind school and was a bit lazy and failing classes. He was the smartest boy I had ever met just lacked the motivation to do work, and this would scare me for the future when we were supposed to graduate and go to college.

I was also getting a bit paranoid, Dean was very friendly with everyone, he had many friends. One of them being his best friend that was a girl, that’s all he told me about her that they were best friends. Later I found out that they actually dated, why hide it? I had confronted Dean about it and he had told me he didn’t feel like it mattered it was the long past and he had moved on. I didn’t want to be the jealous girlfriend but when you’re boyfriend is friends with a lot of girls you worry a little. There was a lot of reasons why my heart started drifting away from Dean but I think the main one was seeing him not love him self. He would come over and we’d just sleep on the couch, the boy had the energy of 70 year old. Don’t get me wrong I loved him for who he was on the inside, but there’s only so much I could do for him to make him believe he had a bright future.

Besides my issues with Dean, my only best friend Teresa had gone MIA, she had befriended one of my friends and they became really close since they share the same major. I was happy that my friends could get a long (especially because Teresa was hard to get a long with) but they had left me all alone. Now when I would try to put myself in the conversation I felt like such an outsider. I thought to myself high school was a time for me to grow I needed to keep moving. That’s when I found my little red head,…Emma. She was like my other half we liked most of the same stuff and we clicked, she was in love with music as much I was and boy did she had a voice. To this day she denies having a voice of an angel. We just got each other so easily, but Emma much like Dean was very popular, she had many friends. When she got with her boyfriend…George who was even more popular I rarely saw her. She had her own main group who I didn’t fit in with that well.

No Teresa, no Emma, I had no friends to turn to, I was alone again and didn’t fit in anywhere no matter where I went. Apart from the friendships and heart throbs things were beginning to go off the rail for me again making me fall into a heavy depression giving me anxiety that I did not comprehend. Things were shifting fast and I didn’t have any stable ground to hold on to.

Bitter Memories

I looked at her as if I were staring at a stranger, years we had spent together and I didn’t recognize the girl sitting next to me. I never wanted a big “fifteen” birthday party but my aunt, her mom, had convinced my mom to throw the party together so that they could afford it and so that her daughter could have a big birthday party. This horrible day was the moment  I knew me and her would never be the same.

I grew up in an apartment duplex on the north side of Chicago, we lived on the second floor and my cousin and her parents on the first floor. Her name was…Daisy and she was like a sister to me, we were stuck together like glue. She was my best friend…my only friend.

I wasn’t popular in school, the girls would trade me and me do things like if I were a toy, and the boys were confused when I showed them my Pokemon cards. You see I didn’t know “girl things” because I didn’t have a sister, just brothers. The only girl my age that I was close to was Daisy and she didn’t have any siblings at all. I think we went together so well because we were both a little off from the normal. I didn’t do the things the girls in my school did. I watched Digimon, Zoids, Gundam, Pokemon, and traded the few dolls I had for Legos. Later when I got older I traded my Legos for a TV screen and a remote shooting at spaceships in StarFox.

The girls would constantly talk about Spanish soap operas and the boys had never seen a girl that liked the stuff that they liked. So they kept their distance from me and I stayed quiet and kept to myself. And that’s just how things were, that’s how I always was.

The year I started third grade I moved to the south side, and hour away from Daisy, we would call each other on the phone but the phone calls slowly turned into none and the visits became rare. I was so used to having her around, and I had accepted the fact that she would be the only friend I needed. I didn’t get sad that I was an outsider at school, because I had my best friend waiting for me at home getting ready to share a laugh or a milkshake. Sometimes it was both when her dad would get a gallon of milk and just start shaking with it like a mad man. But I would soon have to learn how to live without all those wonderful things.

Switching schools was the worst I didn’t know anyone at all and kids can be cruel. I had a girl tell me straight up that she  didn’t want to share scissors with me even though it was only to cut a piece of paper real quick. I sat there ripping the paper with my hands slowly making sure I wasn’t off the lines. I went back to keeping to myself, and made sure I didn’t approach people unless I absolutely had to. The few friends I did and up making moved away without telling me and the ones that stayed made it clear they weren’t really my friends at all.

The older I got the worse things got…so much worse.

Several things happened, things I don’t like talking about because if I could I would erase them from my memory for ever in an instant. I had cousins that lived behind my house one of them being a teenage boy at the moment. He liked playing “Hide and Seek” and would always hide with me for his own sinister reasons. To this day I don’t know why I didn’t tell anyone, I should’ve, but my mom noticed it when she found blood on my clothes. I stopped playing the game and he never forced me to, it doesn’t justify what he did, but I was just glad it was over. While girls were going crazy over boys in school I was perfectly fine not having any boy touch me, and even when I finally did have a boyfriend it took me a while to get comfortable.

Things didn’t get any easier with time, my grandmother later passed away tearing my family apart. I rarely visited relatives after that and school turned into my own personal hell.

I was bullied by girl who had the whole 8th grade students against me, her group made sure I was never comfortable in a classroom. Calling me names, laughing at me, clearly talking shit in front of me to anyone sitting with me. I just wanted to leave grade school I didn’t want to see anyone from that school ever again. The girl left threatening voice mails on my phone and that’s when my parents stepped in and made things worse. I don’t think there was a night that I didn’t cry myself to sleep.

I don’t blame Daisy for changing, she grew up fast and surrounded her self with snobby girls that didn’t like me and were very superficial. She’s…sick now. I don’t know the details since I don’t talk to relatives, but I know there’s been several times where shes been in the hospital with life threatening circumstances. I may not talk to her or get a long with her friends but I would never wish anything bad upon her, and I hope she can live a happy normal life with many joyous moments. Because when you love someone you want to see them smile even if you can’t be a part of it.

Growing up was hard but everyone has their own struggles, mine aren’t any special, and at this point they were only beginning.

The Old Man

My older brother can be difficult to decipher, he’s not a man of many words. He prefers to keep to himself when it comes to personal things such as his daughter or girlfriend. He rather have a conversation about the latest updates to his favorite video games. I think he’s always been like that for as long as I can remember.

When we were little we used to live in an apartment right above my cousin I would go over and play with her all the time but when we moved away to our own house I stopped having a girl to play with. So, I would play with my brothers. We would mostly play video games. My brother with lead me and my younger brother in the direction of what games to play or ask for. He would ask for the Xbox my younger brother would ask for an extra controller and I would ask for a game. He would pick out how we would ask Santa for our Christmas gifts. I think because he was the eldest he was always a leader, he likes control over a situation. That’s why when we still play he is still leading the group.

This is something I don’t know how to feel about. I tried to branch out and play in another group and I tried bringing in new players into the group with my brother but as soon as I mentioned it he declined. He said he didn’t know those people and that he wanted people he knew were good, I told him he wouldn’t know unless he found out. He shut me out and said if I wanted to play with those people I could make my own group then.  That’s when I stopped caring who was in the “Xbox group”. It didn’t matter what my opinions where he had last say in the end. He’s very hypocritical in that way, one moment he’s ordering us around and the next he says he doesn’t understand why he’s leader and that he doesn’t want to be. You see the coworkers in this group won’t play together unless my brother is playing too, I would try and get the group to play without him and they all say no. When I told him this he insisted he didn’t understand why. He also talks about how he wants more players for the group so I tell him about the players I played with and he says no.

I love my brother, I really do, after all he practically raised me while my parents were working. He looked after me and for that I will forever be grateful. However, my brother tends to bring some one down based on their own likes. For example, I used to love singing all the time but after hearing him tell me constantly that I’m not good at singing to shut up, I stopped, I was scared of being judged again. I couldn’t grow up doing regular girl things because he would judge me and tell me I’m doing the most. That’s why I didn’t like dressing like a girl, or wearing makeup, listen to lame Disney channel music, or watch girly shows. Any move I did I feared judgement.  Growing up I stopped caring what he thought as much, I found it easier to be myself when he moved out.

My brother isn’t all bad though, he can be a nice guy. He keeps his word, noble man at the end. He’s owed me money quite a couple times and I don’t mean like twenty bucks I mean a good chunk of money and he always pays me back. I see how he is with my niece and how my niece is with him, I can tell he’s a good father. Despite having an on and off relationship with the mom, he makes sure being a father is his number one priority.

I don’t think him and the mom of the baby will be together forever, to be honest I give them another at most two to three years and even then, I feel like that’s pushing it for them. They became parents much to young at a time when both of them needed a lot of maturing and because of that they are stuck acting childish throwing fits at one another. I don’t believe my brother is all in the right, I’m not picking sided between the two. I am however, on my niece’s side. I don’t want to see her growing up seeing her parents argue and think that’s normal, that’s why I rather just have them split up that way she can see both her parents happy. Of course, I would love to see them together and happy, I’m not hoping they split up but I the way things are going I don’t think that’s very possible. I just want to see my brother and niece happy.

Teen Age Dreams

I haven’t posted anything a while not cause I didn’t know what to write but things have gotten from steady to shit storm I didn’t see coming. But that’s a story for another time. For now lets get back to my family…

My siblings are what most siblings are, you love them but hate them all at once. My younger brother is 18 a very troubled kid. He had severe depression when he was in grade school and growing up anger management issues as well. I can give the world to him and at the end of the day he can still be mad at me when ask him to take out the trash. When he is normal he can goof around and want to hug you all the time, but when he’s angry watch out for the storm. His weakness, my father. All my dad has to do is tell him that he’s hurting him and he’ll stop instantly. He’s not very social, he doesn’t like being in a crowded room with people he doesn’t know, he feels like he’s being judged constantly. But I suppose that’s how all teenagers are, I was the same way once. He loves music, boy does he love music. I think if he had the option to be at a concert all his life he would take it. He dreams of starting his own band and that’s his main priority. I just hope he’ll be alright when he realizes big dreams hit as big as they come. I feel comfortable with my brother, I can tell him anything without feeling judged. We can spend long nights talking about life and how fucked up it can get.

I think out of everyone my grandmothers death hit him the hardest. He was close to her, spoiled by her. He cried a lot, I wasn’t that close to her but I still miss her. I try to help him through his tough times, when he’s feeling down or stressed. But like my younger self he’s stubborn and foolish. He’s blind to his own childish tantrums, that is why he falls into depression so quickly, believing that no one loves him.

He was put into a loony bin for a while, so close to thanksgiving that I was scared he wasn’t going to be with us for the holidays. He put himself there. In grade school, he had gone to a meeting with my parents with his teacher, they were worried about him because of what he would write. They got home picked up his stuff and left again shortly to take him. I don’t remember how long he was there for but it couldn’t be more than a month. It was the longest month for me, I was worried it wouldn’t be temporary. The day he came back I nearly cried but I held it back and continued on. After that it was several therapy sessions after another to check on his improvement. But it didn’t end there, he stopped going to the sessions because he was supposed to look for another doctor and they never did.  He had scars on the cuts he would make on his arm and one night we went to my aunt’s house and she saw it. When we left, my mom yelled at my brother the whole way home.

When we arrived at the house she went into his room like a tornado sweeping every corner to look for what he was using to cut himself. She yelled at him saying she didn’t know what to do with him anymore and that if he wanted to go back to the home. All he did was put on his hoodie and act like he didn’t care. My dad had finally gotten home from work and confronted my brother, I don’t know exactly what was said. I was in a state where the whole world felt like it was falling apart I was going to lose my brother again, the screams in the background like echoes hitting the wall. But nothing happened. At least I don’t remember anything happening.

It was more than just losing my brother they were observing my parents and threatening to take my younger sister too if anything happened again with my brother. My mom believed it was all my brother over reacting that he needed to suck it up because the world is tough and that he was going to have to deal with it. But it was more than just that, I believe my brother has a hard time coping with death. A loose dog was shot at my doorstep by the police and he felt so bad for that dog’s death he struggled at school again and it was brought to my dad’s attention by a teacher. When we told my mom once again she said he needs to get over it. I understand how my mother thought, to this day I don’t know if my brother was faking it or not. What I do know is after all the shit, the home, him running away, the crying, I’m just glad he’s still around and with us at home.

I still struggle getting through with him, I think as the years go by it gets harder to talk with him. I understand he’s a teenager and at his age he’ll tend to think presently and selfishly but because of that he doesn’t see the damage he leaves to those around him. My sister is becoming his copy which can be a bad thing when it comes to temper.  My mom seems a little more depressed when it comes to the subject of him and I can see it in my dad’s eyes as well. His ‘girlfriend’ which he can’t admit hes with her for the right reasons. Me. He’s disrespected me and said the most awful things to me. When he was off in the hospital doing therapies, running away, or back talking to my mother. Listening to all the heavy shit, it made me worry, it made me cry, it hurt me. Not just because I was scared of losing him, but I just wanted to see him happy. I wanted to take the pain, the depression, I wanted to take it all away just to see him smile again. I want to see him reach his greatest potential rather that’s being in a band or taking pictures professionally…I just want to see him happy.


My mom is the opposite of my dad, she speaks her mind freely sometimes more than she intends to. I think she speaks without thinking and that could be a bad thing for her most of the time because then she comes off as a bit mean. She’s more blunt and realistic then my dad, she says love doesn’t last forever and that its more of just a partnership in the end. My thoughts on love are more like my dad’s with a small dose of my mom. I’ve had my differences with my mother but it’s common between a child and a parent. As an adult now I can tell when it’s best to just apologize because there is no getting through to her, which is fine, that’s just how she is. She’s very strict but only because she worries and is paranoid over everything. That’s a mother’s love to worry for her child no matter how much they say they are fine.

But my mom is more than just a stubborn head. She loves to burst into song for no reason at least ten times a day, which can be annoying if you’ve been gaming all night till 4am and she decides the morning is the best time to sing. It can also be a sweet thing however knowing that she has the confidence and joy to sing everyday no matter the circumstance. I’ve realized the other day that I take on one of the things she does. We both, when upset, start cleaning what’s around us. I don’t know why my mom does it, but because of my OCD cleaning and organizing helps me calm down, it gives me a sense of relief. Doing this while listening to music is usually my therapy. I also like singing like my mom but I’m not as confident as she is, I can only sing in front of certain people or alone most of the time.

When we were in grammar school during our summer breaks my mom would sit us down and continue to teach us and make us study more. As a child, this was very tedious thing, but there is one thing she taught me that I can never forget and I’m very thankful for. I had just learned multiplication in school and my mom had me studying in the summer. She begins to teach me division, it was difficult but after pages and pages of problem solving I had it down. When school started again, the teacher went over multiplication a few times and then came division. All the kids in my class room were losing it, they had just got the hang of multiplication what was this monstrosity that was laid upon on them. The teacher handed out worksheets for us to answer the problems, and I couldn’t help but laugh and think of my mom. Because of her I would glide on through this course, I had already mastered this over the summer. So, while everyone was struggling I was high fiving my mom in my head.

With my mom, I had to hold my tongue a lot, like I’ve said before I rather not say something in anger and then regret it later. As a teenager, I felt like she said a few hurtful things, she’s locked me out the house a couple times, but looking at it as an adult I can’t help but to think, well, what would I do? With a stubborn kid that won’t listen, I’d probably do the same thing. There are a few things maybe she could have done differently but there is no such thing as a perfect parent. I also came to understand that my mom comes from a different time, she just raised us the way she was, the only way she understands. Which is fine by me, we grew up to be respectful kids. Well at least me and my older brother, my younger siblings I think got a little spoiled since my mom kind of gave up a little more with them, not as strict as she was with me and my older brother.

Now me and my mom sit in the kitchen and can just talk, go to the gym together when we both have the motivation to do so. We can communicate a lot better than before, honestly all I used to think was my mother never loved me that I didn’t understand why she would say the things she said. What I didn’t realize was, what was my mom going through? My grandmother, her mom, passed away when I was in 5th grade, that was the time when I began to feel ignored. My mom was suffering through the time my grandma was alive. She would take care of her while she was sick and take her to her doctor’s appointments. My mom cried so much while she was alive, more than when she passed away I think. I remember the day my grandmother died crystal clear. They told us we were going to my aunt’s house where she was staying last. It was the middle of the night and I didn’t know what was going on, when we got there my cousin said they were all going to the hospital. But my grandma was long dead before the ambulance could even get there. She had died in her sleep; my aunt had tried to wake her up and she never did.

My mom had reached my uncles at Florida telling them when the funeral would be, of course they had every right to come see their mother one last time. But my aunts didn’t like that my mother reached my uncles because of some bad blood between them. I don’t know the details but I believe one of them was really drunk and had done something abusive to my cousin. The way my mom saw it, he was family and he had a right to see his mother and mourn for her at her funeral. I don’t know what happened exactly but I think I stand with my mom. They just had to deal with it for one day and they can continue hating each other for the rest of their lives. After that my aunts kind of gave my mom a hard time, we’re still not invited to family events. I personally don’t like how my aunts hold grudges and talk bad about one another. For all of this I can understand why my mom may have changed, but I still love my mom I just wish I can open her eyes to just relax and take it easy sometimes. It’s hurting her health being stressed out so much and it worries me a lot.