Story cont part 5

Amazingly enough to me anyhow, I didn't get in trouble from my parents. It seemed to me that I received praise almost for being in the fight. Reinforcing that idea that I needed to be strong, like a boy?

But the next day at school the bully told me her older brother was going to beat me up, he was several years older then us. She said he was going to beat me up at the bus stop. So for a week or so, I stayed at school late and took the late activities bus home.

My youngest sister, Lynn, was born in Pittsburgh, on April 18^th, 1973. My sister Chrisy and I became the babysitters, I spent a lot of time taking care of my little sister. The babysitting usually fell to me.

Chrisy wasn't as fond of Lynn, since she took her place as the baby in the family. If my caretaker habits hadn't started before they did at this time. I can remember so many nights rocking my sister to sleep.

Another recollection of fighting with mom in Pittsburgh, I don't remember what the fight was about but she was chasing me through the house. I got upstairs to Lynn's bedroom and tried to get the door closed so she couldn't get me, but I didn't get it closed in time. When she threw the door open it trapped me behind the door but she just started beating at me. Then she would pull my hair trying to get me from behind the door, but she was pushing on the door so hard I was trapped by the door handle it was sticking in between my ribcage. Mom was screaming at me, slapping me, and still pulling my hair. Chrisy was in our bedroom crying because my mom and I were fighting.

She didn't always get the beatings but they bothered her just as much for my sake. Chrisy tells me that she used to beg me not to fight with our parents. But I still did, I guess I thought negative attention was at least attention. Still to this day Chrisy doesn't like people to yell or become angry around her, it still scares her.

Went to grandparents for the summer again. We road the bus this time, it was pretty scary thankfully, Chrisy and I at least had each other. At first we were afraid to get off the bus when it would stop, afraid to miss getting back on when it was time to leave. We eventually got over this fear after riding the bus several times.

When we got home we had presents waiting for us, this became a trend upon coming home from being away for the summers. I think our dad kind of felt guilty that they sent us home every summer, that was usually his way of showing love? We enjoyed being at our grandparents homes, it was so nice not to have to be at home.