I began adulthood when I was five years old. It was gradual that first year, but after my mother got pregnant by my then step-father the learning curve grew steeper with each passing month. By my mother’s sixth month of pregnancy I learned was an alcoholic pervert. By her seventh month, I had learned how to play opossum while being sexually assaulted. By her eighth month, I learned it was my duty to assume the responsibilities she ignored or forgot. By her ninth month, I learned how to take care of a baby because neither nor my mother could be trusted to handle it. I fell in with the first time I saw him and I took my role as big sister very seriously. I knew I would protect him at all costs.

The day my mother and brand new baby brother were released from the hospital I learned Larry was also physically abusive and how to rescue them from him. I learned by sheer guy instinct. Larry was and started arguing with my mother. She said something and he threw her up against the dryer and started slapping and punching her. He broke her glasses for the first time. I was screaming at him, trying to distract him and get him to leave her alone. The baby was crying. took off outside to get away from Larry. I ran to David and picked him up; trying to soothe him and stop his crying. I was scared shitless that Larry was going to hurt him if I couldn’t settle him down.

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