I hate being the middle child. I really do. What could have been a family of 4 became a family of 5 just because i was young and childish and I didn’t know what I was wishing for.
Well you know what, what I had been wishing for was another sister, to play with and to have fun with and to share moments with as the whole family grows together.
And in the end I get no parents who genuinely truly care for me because they’re too busy taking care of my only guy brother in the family and my little ‘so cute’ sister. They’re too busy making sure the 2 of them are good and are having fun while I’m just sitting out. They make sure the 2 of them are taken care of during exams and don’t need to do anything when I still have to help out around the house when I’m having exams. They’re too busy making sure the two of them get everything they want and don’t get blamed for everything because they’re apparently the 2 angels of the family, and I’m the black sheep. I could disappear and no one would know/care because I’m just like a burden to them. I’m just another mouth to feed, another person to shelter. I’m just an extra person in the family and it would function perfectly fine without me.
Yeah sometimes I think of running away, then I remember I don’t have any real friends to run away to.