Call It Crazy

My Grand Arrival! Not.

I never really liked my brother, but at least when my dad was still at home we tolerated each other’s presence and carried on with our own lives without any interference from each other. We fought from time to time, but besides that, he never really noticed me and I always just ignored him. My dad wasn’t one of those clean-cut, family-oriented type of dads. However, he didn’t start out as a total creep.  He was just, in my eyes, a typical guy that watched football extensively and always had a corona buzz. He was loud, and got angry a lot, but that was just him. I never saw him as the murderer-type, but well…life’s funny that way, ain’t it. I was fifteen when he was convicted of murder, my brother eighteen and already out of the house. So, tragic drama and feelings aside, after my dad was sentenced fifteen years in prison, I was sent to live with my brother. At first, he was silently apologetic, and I let go of past grudges because not only was I not able to deal with fighting, he wasn’t either. We were both rather caught off guard and for the first time in a long while, we were somehow connected. However, after a year, things went back to normal and I was both ignoring and fighting with him once again, even though he stopped ignoring me as much and continuously acted like the adult whenever our fights arose. This pissed me off, for I wanted him to get angry with me. Yell. Wrestle. Go psycho. Something. Something that would make me feel like I had an older twerp of a brother again. But no. He had to go all “guardian-angel” on me like a regular father would have, and forgot his formal role as my annoying brother.

So there I was- standing at the information desk in the first cabin of Pathway Finder Ranch with my one black, rolling suitcase, my purse, and my purple duffle bag. The woman at the front desk- Penny, her name read- gave me an over-done and almost apologetic smile. I felt like slapping the look off her face, but even as bitter as I had become, I couldn’t bring myself to actually hit an older woman. I could be cruel, but not that cruel. So instead, I bit my tongue and fantasized about throwing my brother into a lake and letting the lochness monster eat him up, because that cruelty I had no problem with.

“Here you go, dear. Take however long you need to fill it out. Remember, this is all for your benefit.” Penny said while handing me a couple registration sheets clipped to a clipboard that had a black pen attached to it.

I blinked at her slowly, doubting her every word, but took the clipboard and sat down in a corner seat. My brother had left after I exited the car and he saw me enter the main cabin. Yeah, that’s right, an actual wood-paneled cabin. This really was just like a camp for freaks, then.

Welcome to the first step of recovery!

Yeah, right.

I sighed with irritation, but answered the questions I was given.

Is this your first time residing with us?

And hopefully the last.

Are you here on your own accord?

Hell to the fucking no.

Why are you currently enrolling for Pathway Finder Ranch?

Below this was a general list of problems, every one with a little check box, and we were supposed to check every one that applied. It was almost comical. Like, “Why are you a freak? Don’t hold back, now. Give us every detail.” But in more professional form. And even more hysterical, the list was in alphabetical order. Don’t ask me why I thought this was so humorlessly amusing, I just thought it was. Hell, I still do.

So I checked the box that said “Eating Disorder”, even though I knew it wasn’t and there were probably a few other boxes I should have rightfully checked, and moved on.

Are you currently going through any trauma that may have created this problem?

Alright, so I lied. I checked no. But how would they ever find out? I didn’t need them knowing every damn thing about me, and how the hell did it involve them?