I don't even know how to discribe how I feel.

On Monday, I came home from school to find my sister's car in the drive way.
Immediately, I felt my enthusiasm plummet. Let me tell you the basic story of my sisters life.

Age: 20
Name: Alex
Height 5'7
Weight: 135-145
Fair skin, bleached blond hair, hazel eyes.


When I was four years old, she chased me around the house and beat me with a baseball bat.
Growing up, she teased and physically harmed me often.

When I was thirteen, the summer before starting my freshman year, she tried to take money
from me to buy hair dye. When I tried to take it back from her she became violent and
ended up knocking my teeth out, splitting my lip.

My mother sent her to live with my dad in the country, where I have my horses, and Alex proceeded to drop out of school. She never earned a high-school education and has been
living paycheck to paycheck ever since.

My sister, now supposedly and adult, likes to suck up to my mother in an effort to
get money. My mother, being in a miserable marriage and loving to talk about herself,
buys right into it.




Back to my story. I enter the house seeing Alex with that same look on her face as
she had when we were kids. She was out to get me.

Why she is so violent and hateful to me? I can only suggest that its based off some psychological trauma caused when our parents were together-divorced-married again- and divorced again.
She must have felt some anger and lack of control, and I was always smaller and easy to
take things out on.


So, I guess she convinced my mom that I was somehow an ungrateful and spoiled child?
Even though I pay for all I can myself. My mom has me sit down so she can let my sister antagonize me. They start going on about how Alex has to pay for her living and how my
mom had to pay for her insurance since the day she turned eighteen. Trying to insinuate that I have too much luxery in my life.

So I throw some facts down:
Alex dropped out, and wouldn't be such a poor helpless mess if she had made better choices, and the choices she has made are not relevant to my life.
My mom lived with her parents until she was 27, and lived in my step fathers house without
working for nine years.

They get angry. And proceed to tell me how I have not done well enough in life.
Even though neither of these women have accomplished anything, not even happiness.



I am texting my boyfriend. He has called me three times now, waiting for me in the driveway.
Its our Monday off together. We go out.
I'm telling him he might as well leave, because I can see I am trapped and have been
plotted against.

The argument gets heated.

Mom: "WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO? TELL EDUARDO TO COME IN HERE."
What, so he can watch the two of you attack me? All I did was come home from school
and I'm being treated as if I did something awful.

Me: "I'm telling him to leave,"

So, my mom rips my phone from my hands and runs full speed out the door to get my boyfriend.
Like "Haha I got your boyfriend!" Childish?

Alex is hunching over me like a vulture. I am sitting down with a glass of milk at the table.
"You're going down little girl." She says with a sick satisfaction in her voice. Has she finally found a way to make me as miserable as she?

Me: "You're such a psycho, I cant even begin to keep up."

And she decks me, right in the cheek bone. Full out, wound back sock-in-the-face from a
standing position.

For a brief second, the anger rushes up in me from being tormented as a child.
And I explode.

The glass of milk in my hand collided with her face so fast my brain almost didn't believe
I had thrown it. My fists, knees, elbows all colliding with the soft spots on her body.
And I'm screaming like a savage, in rage and profanity.
She has a fist full of my hair and I can hear the sound of it being torn out at the roots.
I'm still screaming, and kicking and punching.
I actually blacked out some of it. I can't remember my mom or boyfriend removing me from her.

The next thing I remember is being outside, and my mom holding my arms telling me I was
going to pay for a picture frame that got knocked down. I'm still screaming, "SHE HIT ME FIRST! SHE HIT ME! SHE @#&^%going to pay for a picture frame that got knocked down. I'm still screaming, "SHE HIT ME FIRST! SHE HIT ME! SHE HIT ME FIRST! I'M NOT PAYING FOR ANYTHING!"



Alex walks slowly down the drive, wiping the blood from her face and smoking a cigarette.

This is defiantly not the first time she has hit me, but this is the first time I won.

I guess she underestimated that, although she was twice my size when I was thirteen,
I am now three inches taller than her and have healthy muscle from horse back riding.




I am thrilled that I finally gave her what she deserved. But utterly devastated by what happened later. After I explained the situation to my boyfriend, and went to night school.
When I got home I came to find:

My mom, who is the joint-owner of my bank account because I was only fifteen when I opened it.
Closed my account and took all my money.

All I had been saving for college, and life after high school. Never touching a penny.

So, The last time Alex hit me, she ruined her life. And the next time, she ruins mine?




I guess the best way I can describe my feelings is that, I have been stabbed in the back by the people who are supposed to want only the best for you.