Happy Aniversary

Three years ago today I was driving home from Nevada with my brother Stephen with the windows rolled down and the heat rushing in. At 5 o'clock that night something life shattering happened. About 2 years ago I wrote this poem about what happened. It's not professional or anything. It's just a 15 year old kid being sad.

In this world, my sister and I, we sit together in an embrace.
She falls away.
The world crumbles.
Except for me.
Not hurt, not injured.
Dead.
I go home to find an invasion of unwanted strangers.
“Get Out!” I yell, but just on the inside.
I sit.
Dead.
Just like her.
The infant is given life.
No more. Just life.
No memories.
The Daughter, She doesn’t understand.
She cries for her Mommy.
My head lowers.
We sit and wait and watch and cry.
The sky darkens, but no one sleeps for fear of dreams.
The daughter is only three.
The infant is crying.
They want their Mommy to come home.
She never will.
Never.
People talk and pretend to understand.
I was given a chance.
I didn’t realize.
I didn’t understand.
I missed it, the most important thing.
Love.
Why?
The roses…
The white roses and silver ribbon.
The roses disappear.
I will never see them again.
I want to make them shut-up.
I shut them out.
I go numb and disappear.
Time passes and never comes back.
I awake from my slumber.
The daughter has a new Mommy.
Forced to forget and abandon.
I faint away.
I get pushed aside.
My own family deserts me.
Everyone sides with them.
Red hair forgotten
Wild Spirit lost.
Don’t worry.
I have her safe with me.
I remember.
I don’t replace names.
I love my sister.
A cut.
Deep in me.
It scabs.
It gets ripped away.
Tearing the flesh.
Again it scabs.
Scrape away the skin.
When will it heal?
Never.
Peel the scab.
Again and again never healing until…
I Die…
I’m just waiting to die.
To see…
My sister.

Fraud

My brother is going to move back in with myself and my parents. I thought I already wanted to move out, but now... I am counting the days. You see I was born roughly eight years after my nearest brother Stephen was born. He describes those years as the best of his life. He was the youngest the cutest and the most spoiled. Then along came me. I was absolutely angelic. Soft curly halo of red hair with blue eyes... I got all the attention, and I liked it. Throughout the years he has repaid me for stealing the love meant for him. In return I became the good kid to his rebel. Now, in comparison I should be the older sister instead of the younger. But he still manages to steal and connive money, love and help that by now he no longer deserves. Even now as I write this, remembering his misdeeds, I feel tears of rage boiling behind my eyes. He is a fraud, a smelly fraud.

You probably think I'm spoiled and jealous. Well I am. But watching my parents give and give into the black hole that is my brother and seeing them hope that someday he will act like he cares about them is so infuriating. It makes me sick. But I know that he never really means what he says. He will say whatever it takes to get him what he wants. And what does he want?.. Usually money. Money that could be used on worthwhile people.

In English we talk about the prodigals son. I have never answered any of those critical thinking essay questions the way she wants me to. It's because I am the brother in that story and I know how it feels. And so far I've always been right not to forgive and trust again. And so far my parents have believed it every time. He's trying it again. He's moving in again. He wants to get his life back in order again. Does he think I'm stupid? He tries to hug me and give me his number so that we can be friends. I'll never trust him. No matter what.

Real Thoughts

Ok... I am Julia. I have a huge problem. I tell people what they want to hear.

I have no idea what I really thing or feel about almost anything. I used to think the only thing I had an opinion on was the fact that I liked Jacob Black over Edward Cullen, but alas, when put in a situation where I was the only one with that opinion I wavered. And not just to placate my co-workers. I actually started to see things from their point of view. Even though I'd already been over the arguments in my head. I was starting to agree with them because they were arguing with me. I have come to the conclusion that I have no back bone. No joke. I am jello on the floor.

The reason i started this blog wasn't even my idea. I was reading Caitlin's blog and I got envious of the amount of honesty she had. I want that for myself. I want to really know my Real Thoughts. What do I really think about abortion, gays, sex, etc? I have no frickin' idea. My ideas and opinions change constantly depending on the people I'm with.

Maybe the reason I have no opinions is because I have almost no experience with the world. My life is so tiny. The only people I associate with are my family and my school chums. Salt Lake is my big city, and it seems so smart and worldly to me. There are homeless, libraries, coffee, strikes, protests, signs and opinions everywhere (not specifically in that order). Everyone thinks. They all know what they think. I wish I could be like them. With them their opinions are so open. They are on every car, sign, backpack, and pin. There is so much danger in that. What if you have on a pin that says something that you can't ignore and people that you love disagree?

Aggghhh! This world is impossible! What do I do? What decisions do I make? Well... It's a good thing I don't have any bad friends.. I would be lost.