See, she is My Difficult Events: Her Life Affected My World

Most of my childhood my sister and I were never close; it was more of a daughter mother relationship. She was seven years older than me and she thought I was her doll to be picked up and used as she pleased, put down and forgot about at will. Ever since she went off to college we seemed to have lost all friendship. My sister is the eldest grandchild and can honestly be the biggest failure out of the four of us. On my mother’s side there are four grandchildren who have been raised more like sisters, Mya the eldest, Kelly the eldest of her family, Kerrie the youngest of all, and I Mercedes the one who was expected to rise above it all. Mya went off to college after living a life unlike how we were raised. She was in a gang, in more fights than I could count and even more high schools. She was a leader, intelligent beyond her wildest dreams and with that said she was a dreamer. I like to refer to Mya as the dreamer with no follow through, yet I always wonder if her being sexually assaulted by a teacher in high school could have anything at all to do with it. I was nine years old and it was a rainy day, my mother, sister and I all went downtown to this office building where there were many people in suits walking around in stiff manner of sorts. I was too young at the time to understand what was happening, my mother never shielded me from anything and this, I can barely recall. This affected my sister I know it must have, these days she is diagnosed with manic bipolar disorder. Some days you could tell that she was going wild and others so depressed it could even hurt you. She did well after failing out of a four year institutions by going to local community colleges, but then something changed. She began to use her illness as a crutch, to expect little from herself; in a matter of appearance, confidence, intelligence and overall self worth. With that said, I lost my mother daughter figure forever.

The summer ending eighth grade my life changed for ever, more the life of my family was changed. My sister always talked about needing someone to love her unconditionally, how she always wanted a tattoo that said, “trust no one” but in actuality the sight of a needle would make her pass out cold. How’s that irony, she is so untrusting she can’t even get a tattoo expressing it. But, that was Mya, a woman who wanted to be loved unconditionally and trusted no one. Well she found someone who would or more so made someone. That summer my sister had my nephew July ninth two thousand and four. I know that he belongs to all the women in our family because he was born in July the same birth month of my mother and the ninth the same day as I. He was divine, is birth taught me love, responsibility and the true meaning of resentment. See, Mya could not afford a child neither could the guy she had him with, besides the fact they weren’t together. So Mya immediately went back to work, the only thing is she had no money for childcare either, so I was the one who spent my summer laying on my couch burping, feeding, bathing, and changing diapers. To add insult to injury when she got off of work she slept so hard at night she couldn’t wake up to feed her child. I was so tired my eyes would burn and be so bored when he slept I would sleep my days away. Yes, in ninth grade I had a baby, someone who I loved and cherished. I tried my hardest not to feel resentment towards him, after all he was a child, I was a child, and this was our life. He didn’t choose me and I didn’t choose him. Eventually he grew up and started to call me mommy that’s when she finally realized what she had done. She let a child raise a child, and I did well he is smart, kind and well mannered. Now that we live in Arizona and she finally moved out of my parent’s house, and I constantly worry about him, his safety, and influences. I wanted to keep him but I have no rights, but the day she slips he is mine again.


After moving from San Diego, California to Buckeye, Arizona life got a little depressing to say the least. The one thing I had was my driving license and the ability to explore. My parents had done well for themselves and my sister and I have reaped the benefits over the years. My mother had a 1999 Lincoln Navigator it was cherry red, with vanilla leather seats and sun roof that could make one hair on your head move at a time. I loved driving it every where, the only problem my sister hated it. She hated the fact that my mom would rather push it off a cliff then let her drive it. Giving my sister’s history with my moms cars; from impounding one, crashing another, burning out the engine on a truck and oh my personal favorite impounding another twice. My sister called me a spoiled brat who did whatever she wanted, which in part may have been true. I did do whatever I pleased, but with excellent behavior in one hand, graduating high school eleventh grade first semester, starting college in 10th grade and never having once gotten there cars impounded. I was a miss goody too shoes in her eyes and in my eyes I was so afraid to mess up and fail I loss all since of rebellion. One day I got sick, I had been in bed with Nyquil by my side. I got up long enough to get water and saw a bright light peering through the door, in walks Mya. She starts to pick a fight with me and I’m in such a haze I could careless, but she keeps going about something. I finally stop turn and look at her and say, “I’m sick would care to continue this when I can function, I’m going to blow up and your going to cry, so stop now.” She continued to argue with me about who do I think I am, why do I think I’m so special, I stop turned to her and yelled the most offensive, rude, and hateful words I could. I yelled about every flaw she had including her mental illness, to bad parenting skills. I through the book at her left her in tears and went to my room and slept. Only she can make this angry, because deep down inside, I raised her child from infancy because I loved her. I want the best for my sister and only I can see the potential in her to be great, she and everyone around us gives up or makes excuses. Not I, I will not except anything but the best from her, I can see who she dreams of being. This is difficult for me because I honestly stopped believing she could be that woman and now I realized you cannot help someone who does not want the help. I mean, did anyone realize that you honestly cannot help someone who does not want to be helped? I may not be able to help her but I will not acknowledge anything until I can.