Eversince you were born it was never about you, as if you were an accident made by your parents.

Everything was always about your disabled brother

Whenever you stepped up you got scolded, because he “couldn’t speak properly” “couldn’t walk” “couldn’t do things by himself” which was true, yet you got some love yourself.

After another one of these arguments you face planted in your bed. You then heard the familiar sound of Ivan’s wheelchair. He was there beside your bed, staring

“Haw”