When I was 13, my life changed.

I know, dramatic statement of the year, right?  But I can tell you that not even having marriage, or a baby, or PPD has come close to touching the way the events starting in 1996 altered my life.

To make a long story short, we received news that my two cousins would need to be re-homed with family or face long-term foster care.  You know that line in the movie Armageddon where Owen Wilson is asking about the asteroid & says, “Okay, scariest environment imaginable.  That’s all you had to say.  Scariest environment imaginable.”  That was their environment.  You name the abuse, it was occurring.  So my parents battled in a completely different state & gained custody of my cousins, despite the fact that both biological parents still lived.  Boy was 9 years old.  (he is not an integral part of this story anymore)  Sister was 5 years old.

I was elated!  I always wanted a little sister!  I helped paint her room pink.  I drug out all of my Barbies & toy ponies, dusted them off, & lined them up properly on her shelves along with Dr. Suess.  & waited several long months as the custody battle wore down.  Waited eagerly for my little sister to arrive, after years of praying for such a miracle.

I still remember the day my parents came home from Ohio with Boy & Sister.  I remember watching the minivan pull into the driveway, my heart hammering all the way down to my stomach.  I clutched Middle’s hand as we peered out my bedroom window & watched my father lift my little “sister” out of the backseat.

Five years old.  Beautiful.  Broken beyond imagination.

You know that saying, “Be careful what you wish for?”  Yeah.  Write that down.

I watched my family change.  It is impossible to describe what it’s like for two completely dysfunctional human beings to be immediately immersed into a normal family life after over half a decade of abuse.  Dinners, which used to be an amazing time of family bonding, became a war over food, purposefully spilled milk, & eating disorders.  I used to plug earphones into my stereo to drown out Sister screeching over bath time while I tried to learn Algebra.  Years of therapy, night terrors, disciplining.  & a six year old little girl, who one night when I was left babysitting,  screamed at me that she couldn’t wait for me to leave & die, so it would be her & my mother alone, just like it was always meant to be.

I was 14 when she said this at me.  It felt like my life ripped in two, hearing those words.  In hindsight, it only causes me pain to comprehend what level of torture a little girl must have gone through to have & articulate such hate.  But in the moment, Middle & I sat on the floor of my bedroom & cried together while Sister screamed in her room.

I hated her for how she hurt me.  I hated both of them for how they changed my family.  I resented my parents for bringing them into our family, even though it was the right choice to make for the children.  By the time I was 15, I simply wanted my biological family of five back – my mother, my father.  My brothers, & me as the only baby girl.

Oldest had already gone off to college.  So basically, it was just me & Middle as the years plowed on, warring against two outlanders in our family.  Two Musketeers, missing their Athos as the world around them changed.

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