I Stabbed My Brother


For as long as I’ve remembered, I’ve never fully gotten along with Brent. Brent is my brother and he is 12 years older than me. When I was 13, and my Mom got sick, Brent moved back home and took on the responsibility of taking care of her. 

Only he wasn’t really taking care of her. She was dying. She was so sick she couldn’t walk from the bed to the bathroom. No, Brent said he was moving back to help take care of Mom, but really it was for his own alterior motives. He was living there rent free, and then he would bring these dumb bitches back to the house right under mom’s nose and he’d fuck them in the house. 

When I was 13 Mom got really bad. One night she had taken a bath and was sitting on the side of the bed trying to get dressed. She went to sit on the bed and I was trying to help her. I put her shirt on her and then went to put her pants on. She laid there.  “Momma, I need you to stand up so we can put the rest of your pants on.” She stood up, and as soon as she did she lost her balance and fell. She started talking to me, “Don’t panic Maegan. I am okay. I don’t think you’re gonna be able to get me up, so I need you to call Brent.”

I ran and got the phone and dialed for Brent.  It rang a million times and he just wouldn’t answer his phone!  I left a thousand voicemails it seemed. “Brent,  momma fell on the ground and I don’t think I can get her up and she’s naked!” I screamed.

I went in the bedroom with Momma. “I can’t get a hold of him.” I got a blanket and I put it under her to try and shimmy her up. “Come on Momma, just shimmy your butt my way!”

Momma tried but she couldn’t.  I stood up and tried to lift her myself, but I was only pulling her arms and hurting her more. I started to cry, “I’m sorry Mamma!” I put the blanket down next to her and lay on the cold floor.
“Come here baby.”

She was so weak. I lay next to her and she comforted me. It was 8PM and I still couldn’t get a hold of Brent. At nine he answered the phone long enough to say, “Leave me alone, I’m at the movies!”

“I hate Brent, ” I said outloud.
“No you don’t,” she responded.
“No. Mama. I HATE Brent”
“No. You. Don’t. You’re jealous of his freedom. He can go off and leave the house and be away from here. He’s not stuck in this prison. One day it’s gonna be you.”

I lay with Mama on the floor until three in the morning. Brent came staggering in the house with some random.

“Why the fuck were you blowing my phone up all night you fat bitch? ” he said, slurring his words.
“Because Mom fell on the floor and has been on the floor since 7PM tonight.” I said slowly. Afraid of myself. Afraid of what I may do to him.
“Well why the fuck didn’t you pick her up you lazy fat bitch!?” He screamed.
“I think I’m gonna call it a night, ” Brent’s date said awkwardly.
“Yeah I think its best you do that.” I snapped back.

I followed Brent into the bedroom. He picked Mom up in less than a second. “It’s not her fault, Brent. She tried picking me up for almost an hour and then she laid on the floor with me until you got here.”

I had to be at school the next day. Most kids are in bed asleep at three in the morning. Not me.

Mom passed soon after that. Dad was sick too when she passed. Social Services came in the week she died and told Brent that if he didn’t take guardianship over me I was going to be handed over to the state.

Looking back now, I think Brent really thought he was doing the right thing. I think he didn’t want to see his little sister be placed in a Foster home.

So, we got back home, and we all tried getting into the swing of things. Getting used to life without Mom.

When you have a parent that is disabled and receiving money from the Federal Government, if you are under 18 years of age, you receive money, too. It’s to be used on rent or electricity. Before Mom passed, the money was used to take me to the doctor to get my anxiety meds.

After mom passed Brent didn’t take me to the doctor. He didn’t use my money for me at all. When I was 15 in the dead of Winter, Brent took off to Illinois and left Dad and I with no food, no heat, and none of my medicine.

I knew if Dad and I were going to make it through the Winter I was going to have to get a job. I went after school to a local grocery store- Wesselman’s. I got the job, and because I was 15 I had to make sure I got a permit signed saying I could work with my parents permission. I remember going home that night so excited. We didn’t need Brent! In fact, if I saw Brent, I was going to stab him.

I had been off my meds for going on a month the night it all happened. I came home all excited that I had gotten the job, and, I was really proud of myself. I hear screaming coming from the house before I go in. Its Dad and Brent.

“You were supposed to help me take care of her!” Dad screamed.

Brent stood there as I walked in. “I don’t need him. He ain’t running shit!” I screamed getting in his face. I’m manic and crazy and I can see the fear in Brent’s eyes.

“I got a job today. I just need Dad to sign this and then I start tomorrow!” I flashed the piece of paper.

Brent snatched it out of my hand and ripped it in half! I was furious and could no longer restrain myself. I went to the kitchen and grabbed the first sharp object I could find – a pair of scissors. I ran into the living room with all my might and stabbed Brent on his left arm.

I immediately regretted it. I’ll never be able to physically hurt anyone ever again. I still to this day can remember the scissors hitting his bone. He fell to the ground in long deep sobs. There was blood everywhere. Dad picked him up and took him to the hospital. They told the hospital it was an accident.

Later that night Dad made sure I went to the hospital too. The doctor got me back on all my meds and I started to feel right again.

Brent and I still don’t talk much to this day. In fact it was a miracle that we made it through me turning 18. I often think back on that night that Mamma and I were laying on that cold, dark floor, waiting to be saved. I was jealous of his freedom, and she was right, I finally got my freedom too. And I never looked back.

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2 thoughts on “I Stabbed My Brother

  1. Karen says:

    I am sorry that you had to deal with that, but I hope you realize that none of this was your fault. Not your mother, not your father, and not even stabbing your brother. That was the lack of medication effecting you. I am glad that you made it out, and even though you faced unbelievable sadness and loss. I am glad that it helped make you the wonderful caring person that you are now.

    Like

  2. Tyler J. Yoder says:

    Thank you for sharing this story – I know it was difficult to share.

    It’s so compelling – I was drawn right through it, lightning-fast – if the subject were different, I’d call it downright entertaining. I love the way you tell a story.

    Like

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