Matt

I talked to my mom today, she was very upset. "Did any of your friends ask you to stay in New York for Christmas?" she asked.
"No, of course not. Why?" I asked.
"because there's not much to come back to here." she said, sounding hollow.
"I dont understand."
"Matt moved out today." he voice cracked, just a little bit.
"Explain."
And she did.

Matt is my brother. I am the youngest of five: three girls, two boys. My youngest sister is still 14 years my senior. Matt is my brother, my sister are more like aunts. Shitty, wicked aunts at that. My sister's came over to my house for a visit. A very rare visit. And they did what they usually do, they belittled my brother because they can.

Matt isnt the smartest, or the most handsome, or the most charming. Matt will never be truly successful, maybe not evey truly happy. He knows this, and he hates it. My sister will take this and exploit it, like gangreen in a open sore. "You're worthless" "you're not going to be anything." "you're too fat, no one will hire you." And for the record, my sister's, not skinny.

They started to fight, my brother out numbered, my parents not really helping him out. He'd had enough. He was done. He packed the stuff he knew he'd need, and then he was gone. No phone, no pager. No way to contact him.

I dont know exactly what he's thinking right now. But if he's thinking the same thing I thought when I put my parents into a cab to JFK the day they left me here to live by myself, if its along those lines. He's feeling for the first time, really scared, and really alive.