Dysfunctionally Yours | M.YG FF(slow updates)

Genetics

They say when you're born, your parents argue over who you look like more. They say that within the first month, your parents argue over who's smile you have. And eventually they compare ears, eyes, nose... to both sides of the family.
The baby to be treasured- But that was all my sister's thing. She was their baby, their miracle, their little cherub. I was first, but I was not at the age of doting. No, I was different, I was becoming a problem. Because I panicked when loud noises would go off. Because I didn't like loud anything and was frightened so easily... because I was weak...
And nothing changed as the years went on, in fact they were worse..... So much worse.

But let's talk about now... twenty seven years old, work my ass off everyday to stay sane and the 'good girl' that my parents raised me to be. My sister, freshly married off to a man whom my parents would have loved to adopt. I stay at home on weekends like this while they go out and party with all the high ballers, the trust fund babies who are now grown and don't need to do a damn thing but spend their money, celebrities and the world's wealthiest.
It's 2am on a Friday and I'm not expecting them back till at least 4am.

"Hahahaha, Daddy, you're so funny. Mom, he's too much!." My sister's voice rang through the house. They entered the large living room from the foyer.

"I know he is. But that's your father for you." My mother laughed and giggled as she held onto our father. My sister Darla was glued to her husband. They didn't notice me until they finally looked in my direction.

"Still awake, Lenna?" My father said, I looked up from my book and nodded.

"Well, your father and I are going to head to bed. We have some things to talk about tomorrow. I'll see you all at breakfast." She giggled and pulled our father along with her. I went right back to reading my book.. But was interrupted by my sister's husband- Trevor, not just any Trevor... nope... my sister had to marry Trevor Williamson, the city's biggest douche... I mean a big contributor to hospital funding. His father also owns two companies- a Modeling agency that's being run by his older sister, and his main business, Williamson Marketing. One of the top marketing firms. Responsible for the old cheerio Cherry cola commercial that gets stuck in everyone's head five times a day because it's always playing on the radio.

I could hear my sister and her husband canoodling across the room. She was giggling, he was copping a feel... not like I was in the same room or anything, nope... So, why would two adults be still living with their parents one might ask? Well, my sister is the perfect daughter and wanted to get married and live at home.. Since our home is so big and so amazing. She also likes to pretend she has so many good memories here in this home, and that she just can't bring herself to leave it yet. Of course, my parents were touched and agreed. I, eldest daughter by 5 years... unmarried because, as my father likes to remind me.. No man wants a wife who can't escort him to events and be his arm trophy to show off. There's also the fact that I'm not mentally stable enough according to him.. And I just don't know how to take care of myself.

So I'm looking forward to getting a call from a nunnery within the next few years, knowing my parents.

"Stop it Trevor. Lenna is right there." Darla giggled, looking at me with that shit-eating grin that I hated so much. The way she cooed at him and finally, when I gave her a look she was satisfied with...

"Trevor, head up to bed. I'll be right up." She giggled and I looked away as soon as they locked lips. It was the groaning that made me want to vomit. I heard her heels on our marble flooring. She stood right in front of me, bent over and forced my book to drop into my lap.

"I'm going upstairs... into my room, which is next to yours. I'm going to fuck my husband so loud, that you'll never get my screams of pleasure out of that sick broken little head of yours." She sneered and turned away from me. She needed to reconsider calling me sick considering what she just said. I really hated the fact that my room was next to hers. I couldn't go to bed, so I opted for sleeping in the downstairs guest room. There was no way I'd be able to withstand that tonight. She could call me sick.. Just because I had night terrors, because I can't be in large crowds without having a melt down, because I don't like being around a lot of people... and because my anxiety drives me to the point where I freeze up, or pass out. I can't breath and what doctors would call an anxiety attack suddenly becomes a panic attack. I can't breathe, I can't move, I can't think... and if I don't find a way to calm down... I pass out.