After I finish up, I punch him on the arm and he starts crying and Dad gets all pissed and spits out this long lecture about how I shouldn’t hit my brother, that he’s told me how many times not to hit him and do I even listen to a single word he tells me? Do I even care? Of course I don’t care, I want to respond, but I’m not suicidal—at least not in this moment of time. Maybe in another hour I’ll change my mind.
