Hi… My name is Ashlynn, but my friends call me Ash. I am 17 and I have an older brother. Here’s a little about my family that you should now; my dad is dead, he died from an overdose when I was about 8… Umm, after that my mom became pretty abusive, she believed that is my brother’s fault for our dad wanting to kill himself. So as I said before my mom became abusive, but she would never hit me, just my brother, after she would beat him I would ask if he was okay even though I knew he wasn’t, but he always said he was, my brother was brave, and strong, and all though she hit him all the time he always said how much he loved our mother. One time when I was like 12, she was beating him again, but I had this rebellious moment when I started yelling at her for it, saying how he didn’t deserve how she treated him, and all this other junk, but I started crying and running out of breath, I remember telling her that it was her fault for a father being dead… That’s when she snapped; she grabbed the closest thing to her, which happened to be a pan left on the stove, and threw it at me. I hit me in the head, and I fell over, my brother ran to me helping me up, my head throbbed. I had never heard my brother yell before, but that night he did, yelling at our mother for hurting, telling her that he didn’t care how much she hurt him as long as she didn’t touch me. I remember that look on her face, she wore the look of sadness and regret, she started walking toward me but I backed away and my brother stood between the two of us, “I-I-I’m sorry” she stuttered her voice shaking, and I saw a single tear roll down her cheek. “Come on Ashlynn,” my brother said “Go up to your room” he said “Alright” I started up the stairs holding my hand to my forehead, my brother had his hand on my back guiding me up the stairs. I took one last look at my mother, “I’m sorry” she said, her voice still shaking.
The next morning I walked downstairs and saw my brother sitting at kitchen table. He had a paper in one hand and had his berried in the other. “What is it?” I asked “Nothing” he said trying his best to fake a smile, “How’d you sleep?” he said embracing me in a hug, “Don’t know, I was asleep” I said giggling “clever” he said, the first question I asked that came to my head was about mom, “Where’d mom go? She go get more booze?” I chuckled, it was no big deal when we made jokes like that, because our parents liked to drink and they weren’t afraid to admit it, “No.” he said seriously “What’s up with you?” I asked “What’s up with me? You got hit in the head not more than 12 hours ago and you’re asking me what’s up?” He said partly shouting “Isaac, calm down, I’m not even hurt that bad,” I said putting my hand to my head and holding up my bangs to show my forehead, “See?” “Ash I don’t think you’re seeing the problem here, hurt or not you still got hit.” “What’s the big deal? You never act this way when mom hits you” I regretted it as soon as I said it, I had forbidden myself about ever talking to my brother about that a long time ago, “The difference is that mom meant to hurt me, she loved more than anyone else maybe even dad, and she hit you. She regrets it really bad, that’s why she’s gone” As soon Isaac said those last couple words he went as white as a sheet, “What?” I felt the blood drain from my face, “let me see that” I said grabbing the paper from his hand.
Dear Isaac and Ashlynn,
I am so very sorry for what happened last night. I never meant to hurt you my dear, dear, Ashy. I regret it very, very much. Isaac, I am so, so, so sorry that I ever blamed you for your father being dead. I know it was my fault, we fought all the time, always threatened each other by using you kids. Saying how one of us was going to pack you guys up and leave for good. I remember the last fight I had with your father, I remember what he said, and he had said, “Forget the kids, why should I take them? I’m just going to make their lives miserable. I make everyone I care about lives miserable, so why not just end mine and allow you and the kids to be happy.” I couldn’t say anything because I was so shocked about what he had just said, he looked at me with a pained look in his eyes and then he walked out the door. The next morning your father was dead… So see Isaac, it wasn’t your fault. I was too scared to take the blame so I passed it on to you. I am so sorry Isaac, my sweet baby boy. After you both had gone to sleep last night, I had decided to stop bringing you so much pain; the only way I could do this was by leaving. I left, and I am never coming back for fear of hurting either of you again.