Again. This was the fourth time this week. You could never catch a break when it came to your parents. They were always arguing. Being young, you couldn’t handle it too well. Comfort. You were afraid, and went to your older brother’s room. But yet again, he was drunk. Wine bottle in hand, sitting at his desk with his head in his free hand. All though underage, your parents didn’t care if he drank, no one did. He opened his eyes when you came in, looking up at you. “What’s wrong…?”