Brother: Hey Evelyn, Can I talk to you?
Me: What's up?
Brother: When mom said she would call those two boys to do the lawn work it kind of hurt me a little.
Me: Why so?
Brother: It means that I'm a disappointment.
Me: Whaaaat? You're not! Mom doesn't mean it.
Brother: I know, but Mexicans don't understand Mental problems.
Me: I won't argue with that. You've seen her with me whenever I talk about my depression.
Brother: *nods*
Me: *sighs* I wanna talk with her, but I'm afraid she won't listen, I wish we could talk to her.
Brother: *shrugs*
Me: Oh well. We'll pull through. *pats his shoulder*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
An interesting conversation with my brother in my room. Honestly I feel cursed being born into a Mexican family, but I love my life and everything in it. I wouldn't be who I am today if I was raised different! I probably wouldn't have discovered wattpad!
YOU ARE READING
Short Stories 10
FanfictionThis time it's a picture of Homer. Also yadda yadda, Oc shit and cringe, Read at your own risk and such, OC smut and a shite ton of it!
