Look At "Me"
-a story dedicated to all the poor firstborns in the world
It all started 10 years ago...
"Mom! Dad! I won the english...Mom! What's wrong with your belly! It's as big as a watermellon!" I had exclaimed.
Mom and dad smiled at each other. Then dad bent down the pat my head. I stared at his big hand as he went through my curly hair. Mom also smiled, and said, "Sweetie. You'll soon be a big sister!" she had exclaimed.
"What do you mean? Wait...are you going away?" I asked worriedly.
Mom and dad let out a big laughter. It was starting to get irritating since they weren't really telling me anything.
"You'll soon figure it out." they had said. And I did.
After a few monthes later, Paul arrived. At first, I didn't know what was he, considering that I was 3 back than and had no idea whatsoever about babies. The baby-Paul-'s first impression on me was noisy. He cried all night and day, and mom and dad paid attention only to him. I was so ticked off about this situation that it tempted me to just put a scotch tape over his mouth so he could be quiet.
Paul was like an opponant for mom and dad's love, whom I could never beat.
When mom was helping me with my math homework, another scream or cry from Paul would take her away. I soon started to hate this baby. He was stealing mom and dad away from me.
It wasn't long before Paul started to torment me, for real. Real torment, not just taking away mom and dad.
Whenever I entered his room, he would leap at me, and the torment would start. He grabbed at my hair and pulled, sucked, and gripped, making my curls and drop wet. I always let out a scream of terror as I ripped his dirty, snort-covered hands away from my precious hair. Then I'll run to mom and tell her everything. But the only thing she would say is: "Paul's a baby, Susan. You have to take care of him."
I tried to be nice, but who could be nice to a monster who never stops crying? Before I knew it, I was hating him. Actually, I was feeling evil hatred to him.
The incident happened sooner than I expected. It started out with my screams filling the whole neighborhood. I was frantic to get ready for school, but Paul was gripping at my hair, never letting go. Then this anger arose inside me. I felt like I was a volcano. And the hot magma had reached it's top.
I ripped his hands away, and yelled like a mad girl. "Are you an idiot?!" I shouted. "Why do you keep nagging me! I'm busy, thank you very much. If I'm late to school, it'll be all your fault!"
I admit now that it was very harsh, especially to a 2 years old baby. But it just spilled out of my mouth, and I couldn't bring it back in.
I glared at Paul as I heard mom's footsteps pounding up the steps. Then she burst open the door and dragged me out.
When we got down stairs, mom just...looked at me. Then this stupid volcano erupted again.
"What are you waiting for?" I spat out. "Just slap my face and scold me! I know you care much more about Paul than me! So just yell at me and kick me out of the house! I know you won't care whatsoever what happen to me since you won't care about me anymore! You only care about Paul! Paul is god, Paul is heaven! Then what about me? Should I serve him like god? Should I serve him like he's the rest of the world? No! I won't do it to a devil who stole away my whole, only family!"
I expected mom to be furious and ground me for the rest of the year. But instead, a little drop of tear rolled down her cheek. Then another, then another. Soon, I was watching my mother break down into a whole puddle of tears.
I stared at her shocked as she cried on and on. Finally, I couldn't help myself from crying. We cried and cried until no more tear was left in our eyes.
Finally, mom spoke. "I'm sorry, Susan. I never thought about how you would feel. I'm just confused and shaken to be a mom, be a mom of two babies. It is much for me, and I don't think I could make it."
I hugged mom. "You're the best mom ever," I said reassuringly. "And I love you."
Mom hugged me back and we hugged until a cry from Paul bothered our mother-daughter moment.
"The devil is crying again," mom said, smiling at me. "But promise me one thing, Susan. That you would tell me right away when you feel something bad."
I nodded as I got ready for school. Even though I was late, my heart was light, and my soft footsteps echoed through the street as my heart lifted into the air. I couldn't just wait to tell Lucy and Martina my long story, my first heart-warming story.