Liberosis

The Egg Thief

"Hey watch where you're going!" A car honked his horn at me as I crossed the bride without looking. I shook my head already in a bitter frenzy. I hate people.

Like I was saying after being rudely interrupted.

By the time I was close to four still living in that apartment with my mom and uncle. My mom would always make the quickest thing which was scrambled eggs.

Sadly she couldn't do that anymore and tried making me stop eating them.

So she gave me sausage while she gave my brother sausage and eggs.

Kinda unfair if you ask me but then again he was her favorite child so what can I say.

I was just three anyway.

My brother would start to eat like a pig at just three. Though he could not talk he would eat like a damn horse.

The only meal I enjoyed I couldn't eat. What was life doing to me?

So when my mom would continue cooking back turned black hair in a bun grey long T-shirt on with blue shorts. I would snatch some of the eggs from my brother's plate.

I remember this one vividly.

White walls a green table I believe and two chairs on either side of each other.

We both had curly hair and chubby cheeks while his face was red due to the ketchup plastered on them and the scrambled eggs with cheese that were on his plate. Like a decoration of slop.

My brother at this time was starting to have eating problems. Where he'd eat something and then spit it out and would not digest it entirely.

This was the first stages of that.

My mom always told me never to eat after him anyway. But my stomach hurt so bad I took a handful of his eggs while she was making the sausage.

I was taking off his plate and itching my back at the same time. I remember my brother's pouty chubby face as to where his food could be going. Not realizing I was desperate to eat my now lost favorite food.

When my mom turned around I was surprised she didn't beat my ass with that spatula. She just screamed at me several times. Waving it in my face.

I think she did hit my hand with it. But maybe I'm getting it confused with another day.

Later on, during that time they took me back to the allergist and my father decided to come.

So I guess what he decided to do was put tape on my back so I didn't itch. About three or four at this time.

And my whole back had brown tape and cardboard on it.

I know a little crazy how I remember but it was more so traumatic that's most likely why it was lodged in my mind I guess.

I just remember scratching tape and cardboard and banging my back against the wall because I couldn't itch anymore.

It was torture whoever thought of the idea. Extreme torture.

Then I realized after that day. I'll never be able to eat eggs again.

I guess it was some discipline it had to be. It seemed as I got hungrier my brother would only refuse to eat.

I was just eating the scraps he wouldn't. But even then came a time where no one would touch his food.

All he would do was spit it out. Chew it all the way and spit it out. If we were all animals before we were human then I'm convinced my brother was a fly.