Sometimes we get used to a certain schedule. We don’t always like it but somehow we adjust and that is how I felt at that small age. I didn’t understand that this did or didn’t have anything to do with love from a parent. I only understood that it was.
I could barely remember the way life was before my new life; it had seemed so many life’s ago and I even learned to accept the pain. I learned to always watch over in the direction of my brother. Seeing him there near me, was like a pacifier being inserted into my mouth when I was younger.
My brother was very quiet. I don’t know what happened to him when they picked him up and took him out of my sight. Did people do the same to him as they did to me? Maybe my brother was strong. I never saw any tears. Maybe he learned how to go to someplace and play a game like I did when I went to the Fairy land.
My brother was too young to talk more grown up like me, so there weren’t conversations between us. Sometimes I caught his eye when I looked into his eyes. I knew we were speaking to each other this way but I didn’t know how to help. Was he asking me to help him, to help us? I don’t know, but things were about to change…
To be continued….