Siblings: Young

A lot of people don’t know this about me but I have step siblings and half brothers.  My dad landed a real doozy that came with two daughters, Amber, and Trinity.  Amber was my age and perfectly malleable.  What was hers was mine and what was mine was also mine.  Trinity on the flip side, with her new wave style and monstrous tits was a real stick in my spokes.  We fought like crazy, with me hanging like a kitten off her pendulous boobs, twisting and tugging.  One night, deep in the wrestling she casts full on curse me.  She said that my boobies would grow in weird and big.  She ended up being right.  She was a teenager and I was a spoiled princess.  We rarely saw eye to eye.  I have long since lost touch with both of them.  It never really felt permanent  even though we grew up together.  I think we all agreed to just suffer through the years and say farewell.  I don’t really think of them often.  They live next to all of the other random shit I have stuffed in the caves of my mind.

My  brothers are strangers to me.  When I think of them, in my darkest times, I think of the kids that escaped my shitty home life, growing up with nice cars and toys.  When I think of them in the light, I know that they fight the same battles as I do, same game, different level.

I have a deep and undefinable love for all four of these people.  They are all damaged and they are all a part of my past, the past that I am trying to decipher now.  Where they will fit in, IF they want to fit in, to this quest has yet to be known.

Stay tuned for some fun stories about me peeing on my sister.

 

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s