Lost in This Hell

You grow up thinking your older brother would always be by your side. That he would protect and love you no matter what. He is never supposed to hurt you, only help you. He is never supposed to bring you down, only help you back up. You are supposed to run into your brothers arms when your hurt, not run away from them. He is supposed to stand by your side and be with you every step of the way. Your older brother is your protector when your father is not around. Your brother is supposed to be your guardian angel when you need him. Not your abuser.
That’s my life, always thinking my brother is going pick me back up but all he does is push me down. He hasn’t abused me physically in years, only mentally and emotionally. Eric was my favorite brother growing up but no I can’t even stand the sight of him.
He would ignore me for weeks and then he would “see” me and try to be my best friend. If I ask ‘why were you ignoring me?’ I always get ‘what are you talking about, I always say hi to you’. He doesn’t even realize the pain he puts me through, but he will. They all will. When im dead and gone. My whole family will finally notice my pain.

I shut down my computer and wipe my tears away. I shouldn’t be crying over this, it does me no good. I just really miss how me and Eric use to be. When I was the apple of his eye. When no girl could take my place. But now im nothing to him. Im just the clingy, annoying baby sister he can’t stand. I don’t know what I ever did to make my brother hate me but he does.

I was always abused by my brothers growing up. I remember when I was about 10 years old being beaten down by the both of them, just because I said I didn’t like one of their friends.

My father would protect me from them but he worked at the prison here in New York, he couldn’t save me all the time. My mother would make excuses up for them. She would just stand there screaming ‘stop’ while she watched my brothers hit, kicked, slapped, punched or cut me.

Jojo would always grab a knife not Eric. No Eric just used his fist and feet to hurt me.

My brothers are not bipolar. They have no mental illness. Nothing like that. They are just angry and im their punching bag. I try to fight back but it’s too hard. I can’t over power to guys who are 6 years older than me.

But once I went into high school the physical abuse stopped but the mental and emotional didn’t. I try to ignore their words, their actions. Hell I try to ignore them but it doesn’t work. They bring up the past. The past Im still trying to get over.

In the summer of 2007 my last grandparent, my grandma, pasted away. She died in Florida while visiting my Uncle Mike and Cousin Richie. She had a minor stroke but when she was in the hospital she had a major one. My Father, brothers and Uncle Rob drove down to Florida. My dad being the oldest out of his brothers had to deiced if he wanted to pull the plug on her. Which he did. Eric called me telling me that Grandma has just died and that was the first time I heard my brother cry and the last. At the awake and funeral I was the only one in my family crying. My father held me while I watched her body being lowered into the ground. I was a mess the rest of the summer.

I went into 7th grade thinking it’s all going to be ok now. My brother, Eric, broke up with his girlfriend of two years, Jessica. I got smack across the face for asking if he wanted dinner or not. The fighting of my parents, of my brothers, my whole family, was starting to get to me.

So I started smoking cigarettes. Soon in the 8th grade I wanted something stronger so I did pot of a little bit before stopping when I got beaten by both of my brothers again. In the 9th grade, a freshman in high school, I was so depressed even after all the beatings stopped that I started to cut myself. I slashed up my thighs but that was enough for me so when I was 16 I cut from my wrist to my elbow. But that didn’t kill me. It didn’t stop my pain. Nothing stops my pain. That’s all I ever wanted was something to make the pain stop.

I just want to get out of this hell I call my life.