When I Grow Up

My brothers, My Mothers, My dad

My brothers are named Charles and Chris they were twins. When I was adopted Chris decided to go and celebrate with his friends, he didn't come back for days almost a whole week. He was only 15 and I was 10. They found him in a school not that far from mine. He had a knife in one hand and a note in the other. I couldn't read cursive yet because I was only in the second grade. I was the only one who didn't understand what has happened. My adoptive mother said he was with Grandpa and now he is with Grandma too. I remember him saying goodbye with tears in his eyes and a black bag with odd things inside although I don't remember what was in it. I believe he is 18 now. Sometimes I want to go and visit him, maybe I can meet my grandparents too, but mom won't tell me where they live.

My mother has a new friend at our house named Kaydence. Kaydence and I got along pretty quickly untill the day that my "father" left to find a job in NYC. There was a big celebration when he left. There was a big white dress that Kaydence wore with a really pretty crown. Mom wore one too but her's was not as nice and she didn't wear a crown at all. After the big party they went away for about a week or two, Charles took care of me even though he too wanted to go far, far away from me. Once Mom and Kaydence returned we had to call her mommy, mom or mother. When she stopped going to work she painted our house the ugliest shade of green with a bit of yellow dancing around the edges trying to hide the puke-colored house. The door screaming trying to escape to grasp of the humiliating colors around it. The Windows barely seen so she just took out most of them. Now there is an empty hole in the house.

My room was the worst room in that house. My walls were getting so old that they're wrinkles showed in my white walls. The ceiling cried in the nights that rain came down to drown her. The fan would whisper hurtful words as it kept me cool in the summer. The heater growling back at the fan fighting for dominance over my room. The carpeted floors that peeled at thought of the lightest step. The Windows that drew fake pictures of the outside world. The bed that groaned while I slept. The fake smile of the light when it was turned on.

My step mom's room has golden fairies that danced around the room and stuck to the walls when they heard her coming. There used to be laughter and joy in that room when Chris lived there. The playing furniture stopped and hid when she came in the room. The jokes and tricks all stopped when she came home. The fear in the mirror's eyes can paint a picture that you could never get bored of. A picture with so many colors so beautiful that the rainbow would feel jealousy and rage.

My brother's room had airplanes and gadgets all over the walls. His room was gray like an elephant and light like a rainy cloud. He had toys and comics that's Chris had collected by a candle. I'm not sure why he couldn't just go to grandma's house and see him.The room mourned for Chris to come back, it wouldn't stop crying even when it wasn't rainy.  He said I was too young to understand, but I'm 13 now. What do I not understand?