I Love my Little Brother
My little brother finds some comfort in myself
My parents divorced when I was three. My mother got remarried when I was six, and my little brother was born when I was eight. Being the older sister, I was often the one taking care of my brother; dressing him, feeding him, bandaging his bruises, and comforting him when he was sad. We were very close, my brother and I, and that didn't change even when we became teenagers. When I was nineteen, I moved into a dorm at colle...