There was a place. It was small, big enough to fit things in for storage, big enough to move around, it was simple. It had white walls, but the white was easily mistaken for cream since the light on the ceiling was really dark and dim. There wasn't a light switch, instead there was a rope or string that hung from the light on the ceiling. All you had to do was pull it and bam, let there be light. There was also clothes, real old clothes. My grandma use to wear weird things back in her days, she love weird things you see. Love weird colors, earrings, you name it.
There was two racks. The first one was filled with our clothes. The second, filled with old clothes and my father jackets. In the middle stood a step ladder. See it wasn't much, this closet, but it was enough for me to escape my siblings. I would like to think I fitted in with them, but the truth is I didn't. I never did. I don't know what hurts more, the fact that I tried so hard to gain their respect or the fact that every time I tried I was always shunned and was made a joke out of. Maybe I'm getting a little ahead of myself. In order to understand, lets meet the siblings.
First we have the first oldest, Meek. He takes after our dad with his height. He's the tallest out of all of us. In our little sibling group he's the second in command and also my favorite. It doesn't matter how badly he treated me or how many jokes he made about me, I still takes him as my favorite. He always made me laugh, laugh to make my stomach hurt and throat raw. My mother and grandma always use to tell me I change when I'm around him. I'm more lively. But made that's why it always hurt a little more when he made jokes about me.
Next we have the second oldest, Taye. Her and Meek are full siblings, but to me and my other three siblings they're just our half siblings. We all have the same father but they have a different mother. She's the ringleader of our little group. They all listen to her and follow her judgments. She is the smartest outta all of us and is also the most talented. She's an artist, in drawing wise and rapping wise. Things just pop up in her head and she just write it down or draw it. I always admired her and wanted to be talented like her. Unlike the others she wasn't the one that made jokes on me, just the one who laughed. Somehow, even without her saying anything, it still would hurt.
Next is Visha, the second oldest next to me in our full sibling circle. Unlike Taye and Meek, who lived and grew up with our father, me and her with the last of our siblings grew and lived with our grandma. Since I was the oldest outta the four of us, I had to become the role model for them. Visha and I use to fight and argue all the time. There was no stopping our arguments, sometimes it be over something stupid. Unlike the rest of them, and more like me, she never really hung out with the rest of our siblings. She stuck under our grandma. I'm not sure it that was a good thing because she still pissed me off.
Then its Quan. Quan, Visha, and me grew and lived with my grandma since we was given away. Quan as a kid was overweight for his age. Like me, he was always teased and made a joke out of. But he's the type of person who just go with the flow and laugh it off. He wanted to fit in with people, so I guess he found laughing it off was the only option. No matter how hurtful the words was, he just seem to look at the positives. The true negative of this was the fact that he would laugh it off and make a cruel joke on someone else. Mainly that person would be me. Just like the rest of them, he would join in on the laugher.
The last of our group in Meer, the baby. Unlike the rest of us, Meer grew up with our mother aunt. He only recently joined our pack of idiots not to long ago. He, along with Meek and Taye, was just horrible. He was the main one with Meek, who would make those cruel hurt jokes. I have nothing more to say about him. His just, agh.
So that's them. The ones who would drove me away, crying and fighting to be accepted. That little simple room, was my get away. I spent most of my life in that room. Crying my eyes out and writing my stories and poems.
That room, was my life.
