Family-Crisis

Coming home from my boyfriends is always hard, missing him when we're apart, sleeping alone without my guard to protect from all the monsters and ghouls that visit in my nightmares. But it's harder coming home to an arrogant younger sister.

Walking in the front door and the chaos of the household begins again: the screaming of the 6 year old child whom by genetics is my brother, the other brother who never leaves his room due to a highly addictive gaming device, the parents who choose to ignore the conflict I have with my siblings and then there's the sister. The sister is the reason I find it hard to live at home, her constant pedantic ways make it impossible to smile. As I walk in the front door and enter the living room, she finds it hard to unstick from the sofa. Once mobile she wanders into the kitchen hopelessly aiming for food to appear in front of her if she opens the fridge door enough. She has old pyjamas on that come under her knee in a 70s fashion to match her back combed bed head. She speaks only in grunts as if ferrel.

The day goes on slowly, she repeats the fridge cycle numerous time until a knock at the door shows her friends peering in. She answer the door loudly, speaking in a language that can only be described as Gibberish the only word I can understand is "hello". I see her shooting up the stairs and running back down in a dark blue sweatshirt, which could only belong to me. I feel violated knowing that she has my clothes on due to my teenage need for privacy. I feel deprived of a basic need to my own clothes and then go on to wonder why it is that my mother has not pointed out what she is doing is wrong. I step in and tell Yazmin she is not allowed near my clothes, fearing that this could quickly turn physical rather then verbal, so I step back, take my sweatshirt from her skinny arms and walk away calmly. After all, violence is not the only answer.