Asterisk*

Majesties and Misfits*

*In the hierarchy of family

And under the waves,

A mermaid sings,

Bubbles coming out instead of words.

So delicate,

Fragile,

That just with the prick of your finger

It might

Burst.

Marcus

When I was growing up, I nearly idolized my older brother. Dash was everything that I strived to be. My parents never thought of either of us as the perfect child, but I used to think if I could be like him, then I could become one. I thought he had everything: more friends, good at sports, and a cooler name. Over time, I realized that my parents never really liked kids in general. They didn't really want to have them in the first place, but ended up having them to make their parents happy. They tried to be good parents, and they were. However, there was never going to be the mind blowing bond that I craved for.

Dash used to look after me all the time growing up. My parents worked pretty long hours when I was younger. They had just bought a house and were going into overload in order to pay off the loan as soon as they could. I used to think he was such a cool sibling. I could do whatever I wanted when mom and dad weren't home, and he would never tell. I used to eat way too much ice cream, play video games for hours, and jump on the couch for fun. I had always heard these stories about older siblings being crazy overprotective, but I always bragged about how Dash wasn't like that at all. Unfortunately, I soon found out that was just because he simply didn't care.

Obviously, Dash had a life way before I started trying to have one. I was ten and wanted to build wooden cars with him, and he was fifteen, sneaking out to go on dates with his girlfriend at the time. Once I realized this, my world kind of just broke. For a long time, I didn't really know what to do. My one goal in life was to be like him, and I ended up hating that ever wanted to be like him. I vowed that when my parents had their next kid, I would be an awesome older brother. I would totally listen to everything that they told me, and I'd be cool by letting them watch R rated movies and introducing them to curse words for the first time. My parents never had another kid, so that goal went up in the air as well.

My whole life has been based on failed goals. At one point, I really wanted to become a chef. Then, I nearly cut my finger off with a knife and decided the culinary arts were not for me. My friends all went through a phase where they wanted to be police officers, so I followed along until I realized I didn't want to be a part of something that is more bad than good, and my friends realized that they were way too weak to pass the physical exam. My entire freshman year consisted out of the dream to be a gym teacher, seemingly ignoring my hate for both kids and gym shorts. Besides, I was never good at any actual sports anyways, just the coin toss games we'd play when there was a substitute. Now, I didn't have a dream, and I'm not sure if that's good or not. On one hand, at least that's one less bubble being burst. But at the same time, there was nothing worth working towards happening in my life, so it seemed pointless to even carry on. Somehow, in the midst of all this confusion, I had also applied to all schools trying to major in toxicology. To be completely honest, I had just looked up a list of majors on google and chose one that sounded interesting and would satisfy my parents. I had forgotten that I even did this until I got the acceptance letter in the mail.