I was getting a big girl bed.
So was my little Brother.
I'd get to sleep in it at the new house.
My Dad carried them in and propped them against the wall.
One red
and one blue.
Both were scratched to hell.
Plastered with peeling He-Man stickers.
I asked, "Which was mine?"
Dad said, "The red one."
"No, blue," I said.
Dad said no. I got red.
Ultimately, my Brother refused to sleep in his blue bed. Instead, he snuck into my room every night.
Actually, red is my Brother's favorite color.
YOU ARE READING
What My Mother Forgot
Non-FictionBefore reading this, you should know... This is not a happy story. There is no happy ending. Simply put, this is a chronological account of the abuse, neglect, and bullying I suffered at the hands of loved ones from birth to 17 years old. It does no...
