they are merely hidden
under layer upon layer of more fear

i stopped trying to brainwash myself into believeing everything was okay around the time of 5th grade. this is not a normal family, this is not how a mother treats her daughter, this is not the way any kid should think or live.

i stopped pretending to care about her, from the fear of what she'd do to me, around 7th grade. i'd had enough. that stuff with the stalkers was the last fucking straw. and i never took it back. i haven't hugged her since, haven't said i love you, haven't shown any real emotion to her suicide threats.

everything that seperates me from everyone else, everything that makes getting up in the morning and sleeping at night so hard, i can trace back to her and her mania.

i remember when she told me she could have aborted me. and i remember thinking, well, i wish you had.