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My Brother, My Hero.

My Brother, My Hero.

This short novel dosn't hae a plot so much as it has a backbone. I stated writing this because of an assingment in school to minic The House on Mango street with a relevent issue in our lives. Id' hardly call my brother an issue, but what happend to us is troubeing, and in my opinion, extremly relevant. I'm a kid from a privilaged life, a life that has given me many oppurtunities. But my tradgedies, my pain, his pain, deserves to be told. 

When I was nine, my dad left us in our suburban upper class life. I was heartbroken. I had always believed that my life was perfect. But in reality, it wasn't. It was then that I learned just how much somebody could loose, and I only scraped the surface of endurance. It was my brother, my brillant, wonderfull brother, that got hurt the most. I've never met a smarter person than him. He is everything I want to be. But because of the decisions of those around us, namely my father, he got very, very hurt and turned into someone that it took me a long time to figure out the identity of. I see so much in him, and I never doubt that he will do the greatest things in this world. But his injustice, out injustice, is not one that can go ignored, even if we turn out all right. I prefer to keep the details vauge.


What would I write on my back cover? Something like this: 

Since I could breathe, there has been my brother. He was the first to hold me in the hospital. I don’t think he knew back then how similar we would be. We’re enigmas, not in an outcast sort of way, but in the way that people get close up just to get a glimpse of the wrox world that’s within us. So when my brother fell into the deep end, it was my duty as a responsible anthropologist to find the cause of death. My doppelganger is smarter, faster, better than me. If it was me that got in too deep, he would’ve known what to do. But I didn’t, so I failed. To be fair, I was nine, but still, he could do anything at age nine. Maybe not deal with substance abuse, mental anguish, and being forced into “adulthood”, (a word that that in this case means a child being made to believe everything in their life is a lie,) but definitely more than I could do.

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