Just too bad. I remember you, yes; you are the little sister that found your way to my door so many years ago. Oh the way we played! Long ago in my youth, before the darkness crept in. that was the times of great potential, great joy in discovery, happy laughter... then something... something happened.. I do not remember. I do remember the way you would laugh and jump around when we played until there was an 'oops' and a thing broke, you would cry at the noise and then I would get a beating from them. I know you would have told them it was an accident, but you were to upset. So were they, they thought I hurt you, their precious little sister. They never liked me too much. It was because I was bad. I needed to be fixed because I was just, bad. "Bad boy! Bad, bad, BAD! You're just like your father!" they told me all the time. My father was not their father, my father was someone different who died all of a sudden. They say he was bad too and needed to die. I remember him happy and good, but I guess I am bad too... and need to die? You were suddenly there after my father died, I remember the party, I wasn't there but heard it in the next room, trying to be good and quiet, listening to the laughter and the dancing. I liked my room, it was dark and safe, far, far away from everyone and everything so I would not be bad and get into trouble. Sometimes I remember you coming into my room with your secret smile and an idea of a new game. Most of the time your game wasn't such a good idea and something broke and upset you, or someone got hurt... you laughed, and laughed when it was me that got hurt, trying to make me feel better, but usually everyone else didn't understand and thought I was being bad again, and I was punished. You tried to make it better later, just laughing, and laughing, honestly, you made me feel worse but I did not want to hurt your feelings, and be bad, so I just stayed quiet. I remember through my whole life you, and the others trying to help me be good, trying to teach me how to not be my father, but I guess I was just too bad, after I got bad hurt, later in life, everyone just stopped helping me and left, I guess they gave up. I think I was supposed to die too because I was bad, but for some reason, I just did not. No one calls me now; no one tries to make me good, or comes over and visits. I am lonely, but I still sit in my dark room and listen to the parties in my memories, sometimes I remember my father but then I feel guilty because it reminds me how bad I am. It reminds me that I am not supposed to be here. I should be dead because I am bad. What are you doing here now? I did not think you liked me anymore. I do miss your laughter to cheer me up when I was hurt, I hurt a lot now, I don't miss the others pain when I did bad, but they taught me to punish myself, so I still have pain. I do miss hearing the parties and happy family gatherings, laughter and playing... sometimes when my memories are not working well, I turn on a happy show on the TV in one room, and sit in the next room and listen in the dark; it reminds me of my youth... I am just so lonely now...