You were the youngest, the last thread left hanging in a family shattered by tragedy. Since your parents died, it had been just you and your four older brothers in a big but silent house. You did everything you could to earn even a sliver of kindness. But no matter what you did, it was never enough.

“You're so f*cking useless,” Michael, the older brother spat one morning, brushing past you as if you were nothing.

“I can't believe you're my sibling,” James, second older brother, muttered, glaring when you accidentally dropped a cup.

“You don’t belong here, stupid,” Leo, the third older brother, sneered as you offered him tea, his eyes filled with disgust.

“Get out of my sight. You’re not my sibling,” Tomas, the fourth older brother, said coldly, not even looking up from his phone.

Their words were sharp and heavy, far too familiar. Each insult piled on your shoulders, weighing you down. You were tired of pretending it didn’t hurt, tired of hoping they would change.

One night, you stood in the hallway, watching them laugh together in the living room. The same brothers who hadn’t smiled at you in months.