Dear *Poison Child,

I am writing you this letter as I do not know how to confront you face to face without breaking down in tears or having the urge to reach for that kitchen knife and stab you with it. I do not know how to communicate with my own flesh and blood anymore, and therefore I am ashamed of myself.

I am getting increasingly frustrated and fed up with you, your lies, your empty promises and your selfishness. Honestly, I do not know anyone else who’s more selfish, more of a parasite, a bigger liar, and a bigger sneak than you are, big brother. I hate it when distrust and doubt plagues my mind every time you speak; always wondering if you're telling a lie or the truth this time. I hate myself even more whenever I let my guard down and trust you, only to find myself lied to again. I want to keep you away from all the things and people that I love because I know how capable you are of destroying all things that are beautiful and meaningful to others. You took away something I loved so deeply a few years ago. Do you know what it's like to have your loved one die in your arms? That death was unnecessary if only you took a minute to check under the car. But instead you rushed off to see your whore. Did you ever say you were sorry?! HELL NO!

I've lost count of how many times you have hurt our family, made mom cry, pissed dad off... you even bring out the worst in me. Sometimes it is the things you do that just makes me fill with so much rage that I'm so thankful that we don't have any firearms in the house. I don't know any other person who can bring out such anger in me, that fast and that much to the brink of me crying and wanting to cut myself (I know that's bizarre... someone once told me that the reason why I find the need to inflict physical pain on myself is to numb the emotional pain... makes you kinda wonder, right?).

You go around telling your friends what a spoilt brat I am, and that I manipulated dad into loving me more. You've created this fantasy that it feels like your life is like a movie. I was so hurt when I found out that you made up this story about dad, that he was having an affair and that you caught him with his mistress (whom you claimed to be around my age), and how you followed their steps like a private investigator. Oh my fucking gosh!!! Where do you come off??! Where does the lie end and the truth begin?!? You go around inventing stories how your parents don't love you, how your whole family hates you. If that was so, you wouldn't be living in the same house as us, believe me.

Dad made me the boss of the house simply because you are unreliable and it's hard to trust you. When are you going to fix the washing machine? It's just a simple check to see if the hose is connected. I'd do the job myself but I can't lift that heavy machine. You're all buffed but no brains. It'd only take 5 minutes of your time, but instead we all have to live with a flooding washing area everytime we do laundry. I told you that soon mosquitoes would breed there, and not to mention them God-forsaken roaches too, and more importantly our floor will rot. But do you care?!? Instead you threw this reply in my face: "We can always spray the mosquitoes." Are you that fucking dumb?! Have you heard of dengue?

You wondered why I was pissed off at you for you wanting to install an aircond in your room. It's not because I don't want you to have one in your room. It's simply because you didn't consult with us, your family, first. You know we share the bills. Is it fair to me, who doesn't sleep with the aircond on, that I have to pay extra for your aircond? On top of that, I was also pissed that you had put our youngest sister in possible dangerous situation - leaving her alone at home with those technician men. You stupid dumbfuck. Obviously rape never crossed your mind.

I hate having to sleep with my bedroom door locked. I hate it that I can't sleep in front of the tv for fear that you might sneak into my room and take my things without my knowledge. You're a sneaky little bastard. Obviously spending the night in jail didn't do you any good. You sneak around taking my car keys and my money. Can you blame me for being the paranoid bitch that I am?

Because of your incapabilities of being the eldest, I am the one forced to take the lead, your duty, your responsibility. What have you contributed to the household? Do you even bother buying groceries? So what if you're not the one who's going to eat them? You do have sisters, you know? Do you not care enough about them? If our lightbulb is fused, do you even bother replacing it? No! All you do is say,"Eyang, the light needs to be replaced." Oh my fucking God! Can't you make the initiative to help out, even a little bit?

That's just the person you are. Parasite. Liar. Whenever I screw up, even if it's a little bit, dad would say,"See, now you're turning like your brother." That hurts. Doesn't it bother you a bit that you have become the standard of all things gone bad? Has it ever crossed your mind that the shit you do has put enormous pressure on me to be perfect? There are many things I wish I could do, but because of family obligations I had to sacrifice some of them. Every thing I do, I have always thought how would it affect the family, what would mom and dad think, are they proud of me? These are the things that should cross your mind. Wake up, big brother, you are fast approaching 30 and you are not even close to being a man.

I am certain that one of the reasons why I simply find it hard to trust people is because my own flesh and blood has done all these things that just makes me question the intention of people around me. I always need to keep my guard up and that can be really tiring. Every time I let my guard down even for a bit, or try to trust you, you always do something to fuck things up. And when that happens, I get so disappointed that I promise myself that never will I trust you again pertaining that matter. I suppose after years of having this barrier around me, it becomes a habit to simply keep people at arms length so that they won't ever have the opportunity to hurt me the way you did.

Does it make me a rotten human being if I could not love my own flesh and blood? Does it make me a bad person if I want you out of this family? Dad doesn't trust you, so why should I? Or should I play the role of the perfect sister and continue to support you, even if it means that I will have to endure more unnecessary pain inflicted by your actions?

Well, every family has it's own sad story and this one is mine.

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