Acceptance. Resistance. Unwelcome non-action

Feeling helpless in the face of things I cannot control. I whimper. I stare longingly into myself and wonder how much further her life will go down a road so unfamiliar, so shockingly different, than my own. I am terrified of loosing my chance. My chance to be better at what I was not. 5 years was never an excuse for being such a mean little snot.

You are strong. You are young and stubborn but you breath fire and stand defiant in the face of the enemy.

Most enemies. He is your weakness. The shouting man in orange and shackles, a picture of his future blaring through the TV. He is the hand of bruises and tears. These are things you do not want to hear. Not from me. Not from us. We are not family, we’ve lost your trust.

In three days I fly away. Back to my own ignorant bliss. I’ve changed nothing, helped little. But pity myself? I can’t. I have no right to. This life is yours not mine. I have no say in your stories next line. I pray it is one of resurrection. Resurrection of the sweet smile and curious mind. Reincarnation of the little sister of mine.

Have faith. Give her time.