My brother came to me in all shapes and sizes. But the version that appeared in times of desperate want, he was always wearing a pink, long sleeve and khaki pants, sometimes shorts, it truly all depended on the weather. With either tennis shoes ( which looked just like Tim’s shoes in one of the videos where he videotaped me naked) or black, leather, casual dress-ups.
The sneakers were white with red shoelaces and a red marking on the side. And towards the end of all reality fading, the symbolic kicks would be oozing with blood, but only Tim’s shoes. The black dress shoes were always shiny, bright, and the most noticeable when worn on my brother’s pale, reddish legs.
My brother was never kind to me. No matter how much I would desperately cry out for his attention. “Please, I never meant to hurt you. I wanted to save you and protect you. Tim is a horrific man.”
Either my brother would just look at me with his condescending smile with his pale, freckled eyes starring straight into my broken soul. And calmly state, “ You’ve always lied, so why would I believe you now.”
Or he would sprint throughout the house, screaming and yelling, “You ruined my life. You must die.”
Both occurrences I would race to him, pleading on my knees for his forgiveness.
And every time I went to reach out for a hand or his shoulder, he would evaporate into thin air. Every damn time.
I just wanted my brother. I wanted to protect my brother from Tim. And I knew I was failing or so it seemed.
But the truth of it all. No matter how I told my brother the outcome of my truth he would never believe one word of it.
He would think I was seeking attention or money, which how could I blame him. That’s all he grew up seeing was his sister getting into trouble and everything being as hushed as fast as it could be.
Never giving me the opportunity to say my truth to anybody, no matter the circumstance, because if I spoke I would revel Tim’s dark hushed secrets.
And my parents not only bought to keep my silence, that’s also how they expressed their love towards me.
So I was just so excited for any type of attention, I took each gift.
Until one day, I realized that I had the power, and I always had the power. And what was happening in my life, I just had enough. I wish I could tell you the big breakthrough moment I had where I realized it was time to move on, but the truth of it all. I just woke up one morning and had fucking enough of all their bullshit.
As much as I wanted to save my family from Tim, I couldn’t.
My mother is a battered abused woman who sadly doesn’t have the courage to leave the man behind. As fucked up as it sounds, that the life she chose to have. And quite frankly I am beyond joyous that I escaped her. I escaped my whole family and even at the time if it felt like my world was crashing down at my feet, this was the biggest blessing life has brought me.
I grieved my father.
I grieved my mother.
I grieved by bother.
And honestly the rest of my family. Even though I barely knew them anyway. I just wanted what I couldn’t have, which is a slight problem I have. So in all reality, I didn’t miss my grandparents or my aunts and uncles, I just miss the concept of them.
But the point of it all, I survived this madness. So I know you can too. I lost everyone. And I mean fucking everyone.
My best friend since kindergarten.
The friend I grew to love.
The friend I cherished.
But it was meant to happen. All life is, is just a jumbled up mix of emotions.
And I am happy I survived. I am happy I am still here to stand tall. To love. To cherish. And to fight.
That’s the difference between me and my so-called family, I will always fight. I found my voice and now this bitch refuses to remain silent.
I’ve fought like hell to get here. And I am far from truly healing from my family, but no matter what my circumstance might be, I will never give up. Because if I give up then Tim and My Mother win. And I refuse to allow that to happen.