It's my last night here in Philippines.
Something doesn't feel right.
My brother, Jeric, didn't want to sleep beside me in the room where my entire family sleeps in. That's probably because I poured alcohol on his stomach the night before.
Jeric has eczema, and my parents & I always warned him not to scratch. He still does though, because my parents don't give him any consequences.
No consequences = no reason to listen and obey.
I care for Jeric - I do. I just show it in a really shitty way, if I were to be honest.
Now, we have a 'baby' brother, seven years-old Raprap, whom I shower with love and snuggles because he's just too adorable. Everyone loves him. He's cute, chubby, funny, and savage as shit.
Jeric is turning 12 this April. And he's probably jealous of all the attention Raprap gets, especially from me.
Jeric is a good boy with attitude problems. He's just... idk, I can't click with him. It's like we're in a completely different frequency. Hence, i'm not that close to him.
Enough background info - back to the present.
It's our last night here in Philippines.
My right arm is itching like crazy, and something feels terribly off.
Things has only gotten worse between Jeric and I.
I've been a shitty sister to him because of how much I nag at him, shout at him, hiss at him -------- you get the point.
Remember what I said about the no consequences = no reason to listen and obey? Well, I believe in that because that's how my parents raised me.
Why was I raised with so much consequences, but Jeric has none?
This is why I do what I do to Jeric. I want him to stop scratching his skin because it only makes it worse. He scratches in his sleep and he wakes up with a fresh new open wound. Who the hell wants that? Not me. I can't not do anything to make him stop, unlike my parents. I tried doing things the 'less harsh' way. I tried to talk to him, simply telling him to stop. Did that work? No.
That's the side of my story - why I poured alcohol on his belly.
But that made him... fear me? hate me? loathe me?
I don't know, but this feeling sucks and I can't get mad at him for it.
I'm all alone in the living room with a lit Christmas tree beside me. Everyone else is either asleep or they're trying to.
I want to go outside to take a breather but I'm too scared to go alone, probably because of all the scary movies my cousins and I have been watching for the past week.
It's my last night here in Philippines.
Something doesn't feel right.
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