Coming Of Age Story

It wasn't always like this. In fact, when we were young, things were quite the opposite. We were happy then, an actual family. However, that all seemed to deteriorate before everyone's very eyes. It came as a shock to everyone, me, especially. Because they weren't always like this. They were genuine, caring, and wanted the best for everyone. But suddenly they changed; growing cold, ruthless, and mean. There were three of us, and I was the youngest so it should be expected that the youngest would be the one underestimated. But that wasn't the case with our family, at least, it wasn't in the beginning. My sisters and I did everything together – we worked, shopped, ate, even helped each other through problems. Our youth was a blissful time,

They say that their negativity is something that they will pay for in due time. But I don't want them to “pay” for anything. It isn't their fault, right? Perhaps the death of our parents was just too much for them to handle so in an attempt to feel better, they take it out on me. That's a vacuous way of thinking, isn't it? I suppose that's why they call me naive. But no matter how horrific they may be, I have to care for them because that's what our family instilled in us from a young age. We were taught to look out for each other, care for one another. It wasn't just our father who taught us this, but also, our grandmother. She told wonderful stories about how close she and her sisters were. “Grandmother!” I'd exclaim whenever I'd see her, “Will you tell us stories about your youth? Oh, please, will you?” I asked, hopeful eyes glazing over like a small child who received a new toy. The old woman would chuckle and nod, ushering me over to her massive armchair where I would sit on the floor looking up at her expectantly while my sisters sauntered away to go about their business, probably to go plot more schemes against me and others. Despite their obvious disappearance, she'd smile and begin her glorious