the father.
who buys beer, over the needed milk,
the one who screams and yells of ******* hating life so much,
the father who talks and wishes of suicide,
the father who says he loves you but regrets having children in all,
the father who explains to the daughter that indeed, she will never be the favorite.
that she will never be good enough in either of their eyes,
that she is as good as ****.
The mother.
who is jealous of her daughter.
the one who, can't bare to look at her daughter.
the mother who screams, and threats, and pushes the daughter just down so much farther down.
into the suffocating water,
that drowns out her every wail for help.
the one who has no idea of the scars that bare her daughters body.
The mother who loves the others, oh so much more, the ones who have yet to finally disappoint her the way the daughter had.
the Brothers.
the sister.
all mixed up in pain, confusion, and love.
The family portrait is all smiles,
where everyone is in the pleading hands of suicide, the all to addicting poison of their choice, and all covering it up.
all in one house.
posing for the camera, and looking as if they are happy.
because that is what they were trained to do.