Complicated

Complicated is a good word for my family dynamic. I’m the middle child, with an older brother and a younger sister. Despite being the golden child, my sister isn’t so bad. My brother on the other hand, is. There’s too many incidents to list them all, but I’ll name a few:

when my sister and I were younger, he would stick needles into nerf gun bullets and threaten us with them. He threw a fork at me that ended up hitting me in the eye. (luckily, I only got a mild scratch and can still see) He’s beaten me with a chair. He’s tried to kill me a couple of times.

My parents aren’t great either, but not to the same extent. They enjoy taking things from me just because they can. They never listen. I went on a walk once, and they accused me of running away and grounded me. They are obsessed with making me love my brother as well. They love to make passive aggressive comments, like “Oh, so I guess we’re only good enough for your company when you need a ride? I see how it is.” They say that like they actually give me rides. They are usually at least an hour late when picking me up from anything because they forget that I exist, even on my birthday. My parents also seem to treat disorders like some kind of taboo, eating disorders especially. My brother and I have ADHD, and my mother hates it. Don’t worry, mother, I hate our family too.