Mother Father Brother Sister

Describing what I felt while growing up with my family.

Mother. When I get home, hug me. Hug me so hard that I can’t breathe. Hug me so hard that all I can think about is you, how much you love me, how much you care. Tell me that I’m okay, because I need to hear it from you.

Listen. Listen to my words and care. Know that my words mean something, that what I say is what I feel and think. I want to share my day with you. I want to share my ideas, my thoughts. But I need to know that you’re listening. That you care. That you are interested in what’s on my mind.

You used to ask me how was my day, how I was doing. I always said fine without really getting into it even though nothing was ever fine. But did you really care? I knew you didn’t. Because you and the others always made sure that I knew my place; that I knew my words are worth noting; that it is nothing you are interested in listening to; that it is nothing no one will ever care about because everything coming out of my mouth is a lie, is stupid, is nonsense; like the dust in the shelves that nobody wants there and is overlooked until someone takes it away. Ever since I learnt to talk, that’s how you’ve made me feel.

 

Father. Teach me all you know. Share with me things you love. Take me places. Anything you enjoy I will enjoy too; just being by your side makes me so complete and happy. You are so smart and funny. Maybe we don’t agree in some things, but I can overlook all that, I still want you by my side.  But I can count with one finger how many times you have gone out of your way to spend time with me. I know you are a busy man. You’re always working; working so hard for your family. Your job comes above anything else and that includes us. But what I want you to understand is that we don’t need all the things you think we need. We just need you.

I want you to want to be with me, to enjoy my company. I need to know that I matter to you, that I’m someone.

But you were the first to never listen. My voice has always been so funny to you that you laugh and mock me every time I open my mouth instead of listening. I know what I am to you. Just a stupid kid with a broken voice that has nothing worthy to say. Don’t worry, father. I understand.

 

Big Brother. Talk to me; tell me about your day, about your life, anything at all. I’m interested in anything you have to say. All I want from you is your company. We are so alike and time confirms that by the second. We could be so close, we could share so many things, help each other. We used to be as close as siblings could possibly be. It was nice meeting you while it lasted.

But one day, I blinked and suddenly you were gone. You left me. All I have now are the memories from the time we spent together when we were little, when you still thought of me as a person, not as a thing that you wish death upon.

With time, you changed so much that the person you are now is unrecognizable. And you keep drifting away from my life more and more each second.

 

Big Sister. Teach me about life. Share your wisdom. Talk to me.  I look up to you so much. You are the person I want to grow up to be. Not because I am jealous of your life or because I want to have what you have. But because of the great person I know you are. Until the day you showed your true colors, ugly colors. You are such a great person, even a great sister, but not to me, never to me. And by the time you were ready to try and change things, you were too late. Too much damage has been done that cannot be undone. I wanted you to be with me. To love me like you love the others.

Oh sister, I loved you so much. The last person I ever loved and the one person that turned me into who, or what, I am now. I know I can’t entirely blame you for what I am, but I explained everything to you before you proceeded to take my soul away. You still didn’t care, didn’t listen, what a surprise. 

You always told me to grow up, but the one who needed to grow up was you. And you did, too many years too late.

 

I’m sorry. I’m so sorry to all of you. Mother, father, sister, brother. What a perfect family you would be without me. I’m sorry that I had to ruin it. I’m sorry that I exist.

 

Author's Note

I'm not quite sure what this is; it's not a poem nor is it a story, but let's put it under the story type because it has to fall under a type.
This is from my perspective from when I was a kid to my late teenage years. Except for the last part that is always ongoing.

Feel free to comment your thoughts and/or review it.

Reviews

[Sapientiam]

I find it interesting how each paragraph begins with how they impacted you in a beneficial way, but then gradually shifts to regret and questioning of their intentions. It's hard to see the people we love turn on us, whether physically or spiritually... But, that family would probably be nothing without you. I mean, you being alive should mean something, at least to them...

Also, there's no need to apologize for your existence. We all have a reason to be here and your place in the world may be more significant than you may understand now.

Great job!

[MelGo30~]

I'm glad you noticed the timeline shift between paragraphs!
Thank you so much for your kind words, much appreciated :)

[Sapientiam]

You're welcome!

[Soumya Deouskar]

It was a wonderful piece of work, I sank in the story! Keep writing!