Twenty-One Wilted Roses

"Merry Christmas, sis!"

Waking up to a voice that was higher than mine was painful, although I was getting used to its cheery shine. It was somewhat addicting. And it belonged to my brother, Julian, who ran away from his house, my old house, crying. And he came to me. And he has been living with me since then.

"Merry Christmas, Jul."

Ugh. Okay. Fine. I'm awake. Julian is just too sweet to not wake up for. He doesn't know how to cook breakfast, of course. But those eyes, such like a puppy's, and, oh geez hes staring at me now!

"Hey sis, you're awake?"

All I would do was shrug. Tired, but of course he knows I'm awake.

"Sis, thanks for.... comforting me last night."

Yes, last night was hard for both of us.

All I remeber was crying.

Both of us, hugging, and crying.

All night.

Crying because everyone hates him. For who he is.

Crying because our parents hate the both of us. For not caring what the world thinks.

Crying because we have no one but eachother. Crying because no one cares.

At least we have eachother, though.

"I really appreciated it, sis."

Okay, so maybe I have enough energy to give him a hug. He is, after all, warm. Yet, he was small for 16, and I was a tall 22.

"Julian, I love you brother. Don't ever forget that, kay?"

That took a lot of energy.

"I love you too, sis. And don't worry I won't forget!"

Wait, whats he doing? Just jumping off the bed like that could hurt someone! Oh wait, I see, hes dancing. Hes a good dancer, with his small and genetal frame and all.

Wait, hes going to trip over the rug.

Yes, he tripped over the rug.

In hystarical laughter.

"Hehahhaheahhehaha!"

His eyes lit up.

His smile was cheerful.

He was my little Julian.

I had to protect him.

Through the tearfilled nights and all, I had to keep him smiling.

I am the girl who holds her gay brother tight through the tearfilled nights.