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my brother is a fucking jackass
stupidfool
my brother is 15 years old and his name is jacob and he is the biggest jackass i have ever met. in fact, i usually call him jack, and he calls me loser, which is where i got that nickname. anyway, me and jacob are really a lot alike, and i'll admit it when we're far apart. we like the same tv shows, music, clothing style, etc. we are both antsy and hate sitting still, like school. we both hate sitting around and talking-we'd rather be outside running around. but anytime jacob is within shouting distance, we couldn't be more different. jacob and i fight constantly. ever since he got old enough to speak, we've been fighting. he makes me more mad than anything else. neither of us have ever been in a physical fight with anyone else, but we physically fought each other at least 4 or 5 times a week, growing up together. i don't really know why we get on each others nerves so much, but we always have, and probably always will. usually when we fight, there is no clear winner. i am weak, but he is young. i was always bigger than him, so even though he was strong for his size, it was always a fair fight. we both got bruised up, neither of us told our parents, and we got on with our lives. it was an unwritten rule. jake and i spent half our lives grounded as it was; it wouldn't do any good to run tattling to mommy every time we fought, becuase even though half the time it was definitely his fault and he would have been punished, the other half of the time, it would have been me, and we would have both spent our whole lives grounded.
the point of this is: jacob grew. i got back from school, and the shrimp had gone through puberty. now he's taller than me, stronger than me, and he weighs more than me. i don't have a chance. so ever since summer began, jake and i have been fighting in a different way. he wins. always. no matter what. if i want to use the computer and he's on it, he'll sit there doing nothing for hours just to annoy me. then, when i ask to use it, he'll say 'if you empty the dishwasher for me' or 'if you clean my room.' he knows he could win a physical fight, so he plays mental games. and ever since summer began, i've been doing what he asks. i figure that i want to use the computer. i could pretend it didn't bother me, but he would sit there for at least a few hours until he finally tired of making me wait. or i could just spend the 15 minutes or half hour doing whatever he asks, and then get to use the computer. and since all i really want to do is use it, it only makes sense to what he says. i know it's giving in and letting the brat control me, but i figure it's the only logical choice. a few weeks ago, jake tired of this game. it was obvious that i would do whatever he asked, and just having a slave wasn't good enough, since it wasn't challenging. so he started playing a new game. he would say something like 'you can use the stove if you vacuum my room.' so i vacuum his room, go to start cooking, and he steps in, shoves me out of the way, and says 'but you didn't change the cat litter.' i argue and argue, but he says firmly 'no, you can't use the stove until you change the litter.' so finally, i change the litter, and then i get the stove. this went on for a bit, and then came tuesday. (which is what i've been leading up to this whole time) tuesday, i get home from work, and all day, i've had this craving to get outside and play basketball. i get home and the jackass is in the driveway, using my basketball. i tell him i want to use it. he says 'ok, if you do 20 situps, you can use it.' this is a new one, but i do the 20 situps. then he says 'but you didn't take out the trash.' another quick chore. i just want to play basketball, so i do it. then, i say ok, give me the basketball. he turns, looks at me in mock confusion, and says 'but you didn't mow the lawn.' i say no fucking way. i'm not mowing the lawn. that wasn't part of the deal. he won't give me my basketball unless i mow the entire lawn! a full month's worth of anger has built up inside of me and i can't take it any more. i am furious at him. the fucking asshole is so high on this power trip and it's not funny. i start screaming and he remains perfectly calm, telling me over and over to 'just mow the lawn, and we wouldn't be having this problem.' i can't even take his calmness. i attack him. i know it's a battle i'll never win, but i'm not thinking logically becuase i'm fuming. i am hitting and kicking and he's holding me off with one hand. i feel like a two year old throwing a temper tantrum, and that just makes me angrier. it's not fair that he can be so strong. if i were that strong, i would never be like him! it's like some novel written to show the badness of human nature or something. he is this power-hungry jackass bully. i kick hard, and this time i get him. he winces, and then gets angry. 'bitch, don't touch me!' he screams, and then he grabs my arm and twists it all the way around, i hear a million tiny pops and then i'm lying in the grass, shaking in pain. i don't cry. (i never cry from pain. i never used to cry from anything at all. before this year of school, when i suddenly became a crybaby, i hadn't cried since 5th grade.) i lay in the grass and he stomps away, throwing the ball at me hard as he leaves. the pain is almost unbearable. i lay there for almost a half hour, waiting for it to subside, and then when it does, i get up and go inside. and i deal with it. well actually, i don't use that arm at all. for 2 full days, i wander around, doing everything left-handed. nobody notices, except jacob, who sneers at me. anyway, today the pain was still just as bad, so i finally told my parents that i think i did something to my wrist, and maybe i should get it looked at. i went to the doctor between my internship and my grocery store, and got xrays. the doctor gave me this wrist immobilizer to wear until the xrays come back, so i'm wearing it now. i didn't wear it to work. i don't want people to look at me like i'm a sissy, and i'd rather them not know anything's wrong. would you believe that the whole time i worked, only 2 people in the store noticed that i was doing everything with one hand? i'm sure a lot more would have noticed if i was wearing some huge brace. anyway, my brother is a jackass. i hate him. i mean it. i want to kill him, but damn, look what happened last time i touched him. i'd hate to see what he'd do to me if i tried to kill him. life is not fucking fair. why do boys have to be so big and strong? and why can't the jackass be like any other brother? it makes me so mad and there's not one fucking thing i can do to stop it. and my wrist fucking hurts, anytime i move it, and a dull ache even when i don't, all becuase of my fucking jackass brother. i am mad. i am so mad i don't know what else to say. fucking jackass.