“I forbid it!” My cold father commanded.
“Harold!” My doormat mother placated.
“Can I come?” My little brother asked tugging on my shirt, tubes in his nose to help him breathe.
“Dude, wicked, I may go with you.” my older brother said raising his palm for a high-five.
And just like that, the room went silent as my parents realized all three of their boys were leaving them.
“Why?” my mother asked in barely a whisper.
“Neither of you wanted children; you had three. Brady is in agony every day,” I hugged my little brother to my side, “You forced Andrew to be something he hates,” Andrew nods in agreeme...
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