I was about 8 or younger when you decided it was a good idea to trick my feelings. I was a little girl, and i thought big brothers were supposed to protect you and do you no wrong. How DARE you shatter my innocence? I didn’t know how to deal with those feelings. You told me it was normal, you made me love you in the most unhealthy of ways. How DARE you take my childhood and distort it around those simple happenings? How dare you tell me to keep your filthy secret. I tried to wash it off for days after you touched me that way. How DARE you be the golden boy who is ‘redeeming’ himself when i hide in my room and cry about how i cant kiss another boy without thinking of our disgusting slimy embraces. You disgust me to such a degree that my anger bubbles over into shaking hands and tears. How DARE you give me a story to tell which inflicts pity on me. Do you think i want pity from people? I do not. Do you think i cry for attention? I do not. What i cry for is the raw hatred and pain for being so young and innocent that i did not at once realize the wrong you did me. In fact, i enjoyed it but had no clue what to make of it. When you are that young, you like what feels good even if you do not know why. But YOU, YOU were a teenager, you knew so much better, yet you still gave into your sick, twisted desires. You are worthless as a family member to me.
I do not want solace from you, rather for you to leave, for the people who know what you’ve done are disgusted, and the people who do not, soon will be when they find out.