"No! I've had enough, this has gone too far!" He shouts, the door slamming. I could hear it echoing from upstairs, and sank farther into my covers.
Why did they always have to argue? I never wanted this, I just wanted them to be happy. But my fratello was always too busy being angry to be happy.
And Nonno could never see what all his little ticks meant. We weren't allowed to swear in the house, but he always did, just to make himself a little meaner, to make himself unapproachable-to be defensive of any kindness that could come creeping in.
And I think that that's what I never understood about him. Lovino never got over the day our mother left us. He never got over the fact that our dad left her, either. And he thought maybe everyone would leave.
While I became closer to others, he pulled away. Where I laughed and faked a smile, he swore and glared.
And Nonno never saw the reasons behind it all, and that we weren't all that different-we couldn't be.
My brother was just a trouble maker; and I the cheerful sweet one.
And it wasn't fair because I never let out my pain, and he never had anyone to comfort him-so where would he go? Just because Nonno shouted…
He'll come back, he always does I reminded myself. He promised.
And maybe he'll learn to stop fighting, and Grandpa will learn not to yell. And maybe we'd be happy.