Family Troubles

She watched her siblings as they dug into the meal in front of them. Seeing all of them again brought back the memories - not that they've stayed away - and reminded her of how they all went through the same thing, how they all had protected each other but now, things changed and it left her wondering what happened, was she not a good enough sister was she not worthy to share the bloodline. This question rang through her everytime she saw people of her past, everytime she saw her husband, everytime she did anything she would always ask herself.

Was she not worthy?

' Asante' her sister started, looking at her with the look of sincerity she always craved. ' Your quite smart, why not go back to work '

The big question, why did she not go back to work, it was simple, her husband didn't find it necessary, he could work for both of them. She would have said that if it weren't the truth but it was and the truth is the last she needs to speak.

' I've decided to stay home, my husband needs me ' she answered, smiling, she figured the loving wife would be a betterpill to swallow than the battered housewife and even if she did say anything, why would they help her, she's seen what all of them are capable of doing, they cruelty they can inflict on others, the cruelty they've inflicted on her was unforgivable but the pain she inflicted on them was even worse.

You are poison, you ruin everything, your worthless.

Those were some of the words their mother has said to her but she always viewed her like a mirror, she was only worthless in her eyes because she was worthless in everyone elses.

Hah, the hypocrisy of my mother was laughable and the hypocrisy of my siblings is even more ridiculous.

' Keisha, I thank you for your worry but it's unnecessary. ' she said, setting her eyes towards her plate.

Aren't these the words mother said to Aunt Lauren ?

Keisha asked herself, her eyes narrow from suspicion and fear, fear that her sister would be like her mother, the look on her face, lacking of emotion scared her, this cold helplessness was the same look her mother had, her accusatory gaze falling on her sister, how could she let this happen to herself, she questioned internally, naturally not getting an answer. Her stare made Asante nervous, enough to force her to excuse herself to the bathroom where Keisha followed her.

' Asante ' she yelled running after her just as she entered the bathroom, her kinky curly hair bouncing with each stride as opposed to her wavy curls, she had always felt envious of her, Keishas hair seemed more African whilst hers felt fake, like a low bugdet bootleg version of her sister, hers was too smooth, too wavy and not curly enough which prompted her to shave her head as well as to erase her mother's fondling hands embedded in her memory but her hair grew back and not in the way she had wanted so she relaxed them which left her feeling more... white, which reminded her of her father even more and that infuriated her but now her sister worried for her, which was something she had always wanted, to matter to someone.

' Keisha, you didn't have to follow me ' she said, looking at her reflection in the bathroom mirror.

' I didn't but I'm here either way ' she said heaving a sigh before continuing ' Asante, I'm worried ' Asante heart seemed to skip a beat, her eyes wide in shock, these words meant she cared but still, her family was more enemy than friend and they've shown her multiple times that they could not be trusted, instead of being overjoyed like she expected she would be she instead narrowed her eyes at her, too many people had played her and now she felt like a fool, a broken fool. ' Your becoming like her, I see it... ' she mentioned their mother, she clenched her teeth as she clutched onto the sink. She was angry not because of her hypocrisy but because of her bringing their mother into this, that made her nightmares more real and that made her question her mother and she didn't want that, she didn't want to ask questions that would only sooner or later haunt her.

' Since when do you care ' she gritted out, tears streaking down her face.

' I've always cared ' she whispered looking down, her eyes tracing the pattern on the bathroom tile. Asante couldn't help but scoff, that one inaudible sound holding so much anger yet the tears streaking down her face contradicting that emotion, tiring her anger into anguish.

Why am I crying?

She questioned herself, looking at her sisters twelfth in the bathroom mirror.

*B*ecaide why couldn't she care for me when I was younger.

' I was jealous ' she stated, answering her unasked question ' I was young and blind, mother cared for you so much, she protected you while she left us the mercy of that man while she risked her life to protect you ' her voice strained ' It felt unfair, that the one person who loved us, who said she loved us could let us hurt in such a way ' tears cascaded down her sisters face and she couldn't help but join in, their sobs ringing out the bathroom as they cried together, holding each other but Asante wasn't crying because she empathize with her but because she didn't care.

Why can't I feel, why is it empty, my heart empty?

Mother, what have you done to me?

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