Today is November 13th, 1992. My brother was born yesterday. The brother I didn’t want. I had demanded an abortion the day my dad let it slip they were expecting. I knew what the future held. I was already trying to keep the house running and care for my twin sisters as my mother sank further and further into the depression that has lingered since the girls were born in 1984. It’s Friday night and my father has not come home. It’s late, the phones at the hospital are off and I can’t reach my mom nor my grandmother as she is at the hospital. Dad was supposed to come home after stopping at the hospital to visit with mom and his new son, the son he always wanted and now, finally, is here. My sister was awarded the Optimist Club’s student of the
