I am the sister who holds her gay brother tight through the painful, tear-filled nights.
They don't understand him. Not one of them does. Not Mother, not Father, not the rest of our siblings.
They don't understand the pain he goes through every day of his life.
They never acknowledge the daily beatings at school, the constant bruises and cuts he receives from his so called 'school mates'.
They refuse to have anything to do with his 'being that way'. They say it's a choice he himself made. And it's not a choice they're willing to support. Unless he changes, they are in no way going to support him.
It's not a choice. And he can't change.
They will never understand.
They will never understand what it's like to cuddle your frightened brother up against you, his body quivering up against your own.
They'll never understand the full pain of our tears as I check over each new wound, tending gently to it, trying not to cause my poor brother any more pain.
They'll never understand.
They'll never understand the pain and the fear of holding your big brother in your arms as his body trembles, and silent tears stream endlessly from his beautiful brown eyes, and the agony of feeling so helpless, because all you can do is just sit there, stroking his hair, holding him tightly and whispering "It's ok Zackeroni, it'll be ok, I'm here now Zack, I'm here for you... I'll always be here for you, no matter what..."
They will never understand the pain of watching your strong big brother crumble because the world around him hates him.
They will never understand him, ever.
Not Mother, not Father, not the rest of our siblings.
But I will always be there for him.
His little sister and Guardian Angel in this cruel hate-filled world.