Letter 4 - To My Siblings

To My Siblings:

I'm really not sure what to say, or where to start about you guys.
We've had one fucked up, helluva long Journey between us 3. Four, if you count Paul.
But he hasn't been through the same shit as us. What with the Divorce, Uncle Brucey's Homicide and whatnot. I can imagine life was troubled for you guys as well, but when you were growing up, and you can say I'm biased for this if you want, you, in the least, had the benefit of two parents still married. I was only 8, or maybe 9, when they divorced. I wasn't old enough to know what to do when they were fighting. I didn't know how to deal with a drunk. I didn't know how to deal with that other man coming into our house when Dad was gone.

And when I went up North, I never knew a City could get worse than the one I lived in.
But then again, I'd never lived in a Native Reservation before.
I was 12 then, a little tougher, or rather, mushy and broken, after the divorce thing.
I thought leaving that town would be good for me, it wasn't. The one I came from, that is.
Then Brucey got stabbed, I'm still not 100% on by who, Mom's drunken, Schitzophrenic ass goes between bouts of denying it and admitting it. I'm sure we'll never get the true story 'til we're dead and get to ask God & Brucey ourselves. But I don't see why I really care. I got over it. Brucey was an asshole anyway. He had it coming. If not for (maybe?) mom then it woulda' been someone else.

I came back, Highschool was every bit as tough as the Res school. In the Rez they called me white, In Highschool they called me an Indian. I learned I couldn't win anywhere. The only one I could trust was myself. And the fellow losers in the Detention room. We all came from broken family's. We all banded together. We all knew hardships harder than anyone of those judgemental fucks that put us in there in the first place did. If they just knew where we came from, I'm sure they wouldn't shit on us all the time and pamper the more privelidged ass-kissing teacher's pets that turned into vile snakes on the playground when the teachers weren't looking.

All of this, ALL of this, is why I'm such a tough kid. Why I'm tougher than both of you. Why I'm smarter, more ruthless, leaner. Why I can eat scraps and survive. How I can sleep in the back of a truck and survive. How I can lift 300 pound buckets for the Zipper while Travelling Canada with the Carnival and do it without pride, only humility. And do it for Penny's. Do it for the spare change that I can use to feed myself, so I can say that I feed myself, that I don't live off another man's bills.

It's why I'm the youngest, and the biggest out of all of us
It's why I got a Criminal Record to deal with and you don't.
Yet, I love you both. I love you beyond measures or words. I'll do anything for you two. I'll take all the pain and make it my own so that you two can have a real life and suffer not the cruelty of the world.

I'll be the Bad one. I'll be the one that picks fights with those who pick fights with you. I'll be the one carrying a pistol in his waistband and the one that stays behind to hold them off when they come for you.

I do this with pride. I am a Guardian. I love my Family. It's all I have left. Nothing will take you away from me and nothing will harm you while I live. With enough scars, no blade will be able to pierce my skin. Now succeed, become something, put our family name on the Map. I will continue to serve the greater ideal. My day will come. My dreams are still alive. I am still intelligent. I, on the other hand, believe that, when I finish this great project of mine, my Magnum Opus, the wealth will come to me. I do not believe in the short term benefits of working a McJob for pittles of paychecks all my life. Wasting my time on what many consider the whole purpose of life. Acting like we know exactly what Life is about and what it is when really we know nothing. The only knowledge I truly have is that I am small and I do not know. This is my story. And how you fit into it.
-Clarky Maggot