When my father died,
My brother decided he’d be the man of the house.
That didn’t mean that he’d help us.
It meant my sisters and I would be his servants.
We weren’t allowed to object to anything,
Because he’d hit us.
He’d slap us and kick us until we bruised.
If one of us cried,
He’d hit us harder.
We couldn’t even make eye contact with him,
Because he considered it an act of defiance.
That’s what he thinks “man of the house” means.
