I'm A Spoiled Brat

All my life I have been called a spoiled brat. Someone who only wants what they can't have. Perhaps that is true. Someone asked me one day, "Why. Why are you a spoiled brat?" and those words haunted me for a long time. Why am I a spoiled brat? What made me a spoiled brat, and why do i continue to be a spoiled brat.

First I had to figure out what a spoiled brat was. So i did some research online. A spoiled brat according to the Urban Dictionary is defined as, "a kid who wants anything they see... and they cry and scream their heads off until they get it." They also go on to say, "Children who use their parents' weaknesses in order to get material goods. The weakness is usually guilt." I read on and see nothing about why they are spoiled. What made them spoiled. I see plenty of attacks on a child, but nothing to show exactly what makes a spoiled brat and why. They simply say it is this, and the child is to blame. 

Wikipedia tells me, "A Spoiled child or spoiled brat is a derogatory term aimed at children who exhibit behavioral problems from being overindulged by their parents." This spoke to me. When I look back on my child hood I see the correlation to this statement, and my life. When I was young, my mother gave me everything. I had a beautiful home, cars, brothers, toys. Anything and everything I needed to keep me distracted, and ignore the important things. Even today, I find that to be true. I have cable, Internet, phone, tablets, TV's computers. Everything is at my fingertips all the time. On top of that I have food coming in and rent is paid. My lights are paid. Everything is paid for by me, but nothing is being paid directly by me. 

What exactly does that mean. Along the way in life I tried to explain to my family, when I say I want something, I don't mean, go buy it for me. I mean let me get it myself. I had no reason to get up and do anything, yet so desperately wanted something to want. Like any loving mother or father, they would hand it to me. What was the first thing I wanted? Their attention. Why? Because someone was hurting me. I couldn't explain to them what was going on and every time I tried, nothing was all that came out. I asked my mother to love me, she made me her baby. I asked my father to love me, he made me the enemy. I asked my older brother to love me, he made me the target. I asked my stepfather to love me, he made me his love bunny. When I tried to fight back, their ears and eyes would close. I saw the struggle in them. It was always a battle for attention. I found out to love one, is to hate everyone else. I asked my middle brother, to love me, and he said I don't know how. That got me to wondering. How do you love some one. Someone told me, "We hurt the one's we love the most." My family kept saying this when we were young, and this stuck with me. I don't know where it come from, it was just passed down in our family. I got to thinking on this one day and realized, these words are very true. We hurt the ones we love the most. 

When I was young, everything was handed to me, and because of that I didn't need to do it on my own. My family helped me because they love me. They gave it to me because they loved me. The problem was, their love was not helping me. The fact that they wouldn't allow me to do for my self then, forced me not to know how to do for myself. I had to wait to escape the clutches of their grips to finally try to do anything myself. 

Eventually, I caught on to this. When I was fourteen my stepfather started to molest me and it only happened twice. When it first happened the emotions around it split me inside. The reason was because I couldn't believe what he was doing to me. I was taught sex was wrong, and yet here he was showing me how good it felt. The fact he was sick from a brain tumor didn't matter. I didn't want to admit to anyone that I wanted to feel that way, but knew it shouldn't have been him to show me. After words, he made it a point to tell me it was the first time and it would never happen again. So, I let it go. It was the second time he touched me, something clicked in me. He lied to me. If he had lied to me about this, what else was he lying to me about, and who else was lying to me. I don't know. It was all too much. All I knew in that moment, I had a choice. My family was going to be his, or my family was going to be mine. 

I had to be sure who i told would be right. So I waited. I went to school and though on it. How, who, why? And my nerves ate at me and my stomach churned so bad, I went numb. Everything stopped. I remember the sound of the school buses releasing their brakes. I remember the sound of the kids playing in the back ground. I remember the look on my friends face when I told her. I remember the way the parents greeted their moms, and I realized in that moment. I was alone. I would always be alone, and no one will ever save me. I burned this image in my mind, and many more like it. Because these moments Mattered. I was told I God would save me, where was he? I was looking for him.

They say we are defined by our choices. In that moment I found myself. God wan't going to save me. I had to save myself. Everything faded away and I could hear nothing but my own heart beat. It was here I found myself. No one was coming to save me, no one was going to help my family. No one. Not even God. The bible even said he would test us. My family's happiness was to be my test. It had to be me to save them. It was my choice, I had free will. It was going to destroy my family. Every one I knew was my enemy, my family was my enemy and this was war. The Devil was coming, if there was one. I have to fight him on my own. 

I grabbed my friends arm. I drew her strength, and I marched in there and I took back my family. I opened the flood gates and I told my story. Her first question to me was, "Are you sure?" 

In that moment, she had to determine if she was on my side, or if she was going to fight me. I knew our fate rested in my hands and I said "yes." The first thing I needed was back up, and here she was. Here I was spilling the beans at this woman, and her first reaction was, I didn't just hear this, am I hearing this, what do i do? She made her choice and she shot out. Made her phone calls and I bought an army. They locked me in that room alone. I needed time to determine my next step. So I sat there alone. In the quiet. Scared. Petrified of what was going to happen next. My life was signed over. 

My test didn't end there. My mom drug me to every doctor. Convinced I was broken. My middle brother was ripped away from me the only one I could talk to. My older brother went to live with my aunt, only to return his to show his rage. I was left with my mother. Who was convinced, by the doctors, I would never mature beyond the age of fourteen. Because when they asked me what I thought, they didn't want to hear it. 

They saw the fight in me and along the way. There was nothing but more fights. The devil came at me, from every angle. He came as everyone, and I had no one. But I had set it all in motion.

"How are you."

"I'm fine."

"How do you feel about what happened?"

"It happened, I survived."

"How do you feel about your family being split up."

"Shit happens, they will be back." 

My mom drug me to every doctor. Convinced I was broken, because when they asked me, they didn't want to hear me. They wanted to know what he did and how they could use me. 

They saw the fight in me and along the way. There was nothing but more fights. The doctors came at me, from every angle. My mother forced those pills down my throat till I wanted them. They were more than happy to give them to me, by then. At a small fee. I had no one. But I had set it all in motion. So I took it. I let them drug me. Use me. Poison me. Kill me. 

They told my mom I was depressed, and I needed pills to recover. They told her the same thing when I was in school. Said I was hyper. I just missed living in the city. I wanted to go home. They wouldn't take me. I got used to living in the country. Eventually, we moved back to the city. There was too much noise, and I wanted to go home. I just needed time to get used to it. My life had been distroyed. I just wanted them to leave me alone to get used to it. Once I got used to something, now, I run scared. I never feel settled, because they kept moving me. Why did they keep moving me, because I finally reached out to someone and told them what was really going on. My mom taught me to run from my problems well, but I tough myself how to deal with her's.

Suddenly, I was shoved into a world where I had everything I wanted, and nothing I needed. I needed space, but that meant I had to get drugged. I needed time, that meant another trip to the doctors. Before I knew it we were going to doctors because that Medication made new symptoms. 

You may wonder if I ever fought my way out of this situation. Yes. I ran away at 16. My mother sent the cops after me and they made me go home. They put me in Charter, and then a group home. When I ran away from there, she took me back. My real father freed me, and that was about the only thing he ever did for me in his life. Only after I told him what she did to me. He pinned me to the bed one day and screamed at me. I was fighting my demons, and he couldn't handle it. So I ran. Back to my mother. Back to the drugs. He came again in my adult hood and wanted to treat me like a child also. I got a job, one that would kill me. Suddenly, he and mom weren't happy, she told me, asked me if i would be, if they split and I lost my father again. He popped in every now and again when he needed something, and helped me along the way too. He knew what I was carrying and tried to free me, but he in turn also wasn't the one to make my mother happy. 

In that I found myself in him and I knew the answer to my questions. A spoiled brat is someone who protects their family at all cost. Even if the price is protecting them from their selves. 

Eventually, I needed the doctors. 

At that point in time I didn't care. If she was going to force me to stay, I was going to be the best child I could be. She wanted to hand me everything my whole life. I was going to let her. She wasn't going to like the price she had to pay to keep me, but she chose it. I started fighting her, I started to fight the doctors. If I was using her, why not use her to help care for her. I used her to fight the doctors off me, I fought the doctors off her. They were making me sick, they were making her sick. It was a war for my life, and now she was on my side. At first she forced me to take pills, she forced me to go to group homes. She forced me to go into a mental institution for running away from home. It just made me madder. She wanted me to be insane, baby I was going to show her how insane I could be. No one else was going to rescue me, and she wasn't allowing me to go. So I pitched my fit, but I was leaving at eighteen. Eventually she stopped forcing me to do anything. She stopped forcing pills down my throat. Finally, my mother and I started to work together. We found a beat and we found a way to work together. When I didn't like someone, I told her. When she didn't like someone, she told me. What ever she needed I gave her. What ever I needed, she gave me.

My mother, wasn't at fault for anything that had happened to me, but she blamed herself. She was angry at herself, that meant she was angry at herself. She allowed me to get hurt. I was her penance, and she was mine. I already knew I was alright taking care of her, My way. She had a hard life, and when I broke this family I destroyed her. This wasn't just my fault, this was my reward. My mother was my burden to carry. I was frozen in her mind, pure sweet innocent, and I would never be rid of it. If this was the part I had to play. I would play it till I believed it. If it meant it would set me free. This was my punishment for not waiting for God. That is what they told me. Even if that meant I had to be a child till I died.

I knew I had to get away from her, but didn't know how. My thoughts started turning on me, and I fell. I was drugged and happy, and getting anything I wanted. She was happy, and life was good. 

My mother, was a fighter then too. She drove trucks and was wonderful at it. We were living with my grandmother and I felt I could do better for us. My granny told me she had my back. I was finally allowing me to grow up. She was getting better and becoming happy. I got a job I left her there with granny, only during work hours. When I was home I had to be her child. When I was working, I had to be the child. This job was wonderful. It was my ticket out and I had nothing else to do, but do it! 

My grandmother fell ill. She had a heart attack. Home life started to bleed in the woman I was, because grandma got sick. She got scared, and suddenly..

I gave up my job to go home to help care for her. My mother was in an accident at work and I had to take care of her too. My life that was just beginning. It was already over. I had to wait longer. There wasn't anyone else home to do it. So I had to.

Every time I came close to making my escape. Something went wrong. There was always a reason I couldn't leave. I had to take care of my Grandmother. Her boyfriend wasn't good enough. Why. Because no one else could save her. Which meant no one could save me.

I threw myself into trying to get by. They called me day and night to do things. I couldn't eat, because I ate too much. I couldn't sleep. I slept to much. I was running the bills to pay them and tending to people. Washing the dishes after a trip to the hospital. I was cooking dinner, and scrubbing toilets. Fetching drinks and cleaning up vomit. I was waiting for someone to rescue me. I knew no one was coming. There isn't a hero in this story, so stop looking for one. 

I turned back to the doctors for help. I needed the doctors to drug me. I couldn't keep up. I was killing my self to keep them alive. I needed the drugs just to survive.

No one was going to save me, and the life of a spoiled brat is exactly that. Spoiled. Every time I though I was free. I was pulled back in. They gave me everything I wanted. I needed everything to take care of everyone. I had to be a spoiled brat. At what cost? I was their whipping girl. I was exactly what everyone made me to be. The one who held it all together. The one they couldn't live with out, because I allowed their abuse, and they dished it out by the minuet. As long as it kept my mom happy, I could get my work done. When I didn't have drugs, I had second life. When she was done pitching her fit. I cleaned the house. Till I couldn't anymore. 

They say its wrong to expect anything given to you and you should fight to get it on your own. They are right. The price of everything I was getting from them was killing it. Every drug the doctor got me hooked on was killing me. Every thing was killing me. I wanted out. 

Then there was one doctor who saw me. He understood. He held my hand and he looked me in the eyes. He said this isn't your fault. It is all your fault. Your body is sick. You did it to yourself. I looked at what was happening. I was popping pills behind everyone's back. Never stealing them. They were mine. I did the work to get them. I had every problem I needed, and more. I didn't know what was just aches and pains, or what was just normal twitches of my body.

I quit. I quit taking the drugs I didn't need to stay alive. I quit eating how everyone else told me. I started eating what my body told me it needed. I pitched a fit. I started seeing results, and I started seeing the progress. I was starting to get free. Then my grandmother turned for the worst.

I wanted to run. I didn't want to stay for this. At the same time I couldn't leave. I let them take care of me again. I took care of them the best I knew how. Take care of me, because i am taking care of you. I needed a car, because I was taking care of my mother, and needed to take her places, so i made sure she bought me a good car. Well, the first time, my brother put a stop to that. He got me a peace of crap, I didn't care. My salvation was in those moments when I was alone. I kept my brain together, and figured my next move out behind the wheel. When that one broke down, we had to get it fixed. Till we got another. My mom got her settlement from her accident at work and everyone came with their hands out. I tried to tell mom. We need to save it for a good car, and a house. They didn't listen to me, so I played my part. I would help her spend her money, but on things we needed. They talked my mom down from a good house and brand new car. Into nothing, and a cheap knock off of a new car. I put the work in for that car and they still tried to use it to control me. My father wanted it in his name and took the keys from me only once. I put the work into that car, and I wasn't about to loose it. I trusted him and he tried to control me just like everyone else. I knew right then he was only out for himself. I let him control me. I let him do exactly what he wanted. He went down burning, and I didn't do anything. Except exactly what he wanted me to do. Nothing. 

He pitched a fit. I let him. He wanted to force me to do something. I did what I could when I could. He wanted me to leave. I left. I let him have mom. The problem was when I left, I didn't cut contact, because I knew my mother would need me. Eventually. I allowed more people to take care of me while my body healed, and my mind. Every time I tried to step forward, I got a call from someone at home. Someone needing me. I couldn't get any rest, and they were getting mad at me. They tried to teach me responsibility, and then it was war. My family needed me and I couldn't leave. My mom called me one night in panic because I didn't have my medication. It became a fight between my family and my friends. I tried to go to the pharmacy, but my heart pills were one drug I wasn't actually able to live without. I was born with an extra nerve on my heart. The people I was with started to abuse me the same way my family did. Why because I allowed them to. They were just working out their issues. I let them pitch their fits, but I did fight back. They wanted me to, at first, but they knew I was a lost cause. I was in too deep, and nothing was ready for me to leave. We parted ways, because I wouldn't part ways with my family. My mother is and always will be my curse. I made her and she made me. When someone picked me up, they let me stay with them. My father tried to talk me into staying with him, but I couldn't, my family needed me. He was just like me, and I did want to stay. We would have probably had a great life. It was simply a peak, a reminder of what I could have, if I would have chosen the easy way. 

If I had never made my first choice, and chose to "give up" and "take it lying down" then, I would probably be happy somewhere. My family still getting tortured by the Devil. No, I chose this path. I faced my demons, just like I did my stepfather. I took them head on. Until they hug themselves. Then I moved on. I did take time to thank my friend for his help. I gave him all I had a favor later, for the help he gave me. He called me one day, and I did pay him back. I didn't have much, but he helped me when I had nothing. I owed him my life, but i gave it to my family long ago. So, I gave him a favor when he needed it most. I went home. 

I tried to just stay off to the side, and let things happen the way they do. I tried to stay out of it. My father was trying to get rid of me before I got home. It was both a way of helping, and gaining control. I didn't mind. I was closer. Mom had other plans. She wanted to leave, and she asked me again how she felt. I allowed her to make her own choice, and he blamed me.

 People ask me why sometimes I am hard. Why children love to be around me. Well its simply because I am spoiled. I never said a word. While I was out there getting better. He did something to scare her. In trying to help her, he went too far. I know now it doesn't matter to anyone else what happens in those moment. Those shadows of your mind. When they do something wrong, something snaps. You never mean it. You never intended it to happen. However, you allowed it. So, you should own up to it. 

I am never going to say I have never lost my temper. I have. I have also always had a good reason why. I am sure he did too.

He crossed a line. He picked up a gun. I wasn't going to allow my mother and father to keep fighting over me. I loved them both, and they both loved me. I packed up, and we left. My mom and me. We moved back into my grandmother's house and I started playing my part again. She got everything we needed, I was forced to listen to my mom scream about the house, because she was getting sicker and sicker. There wasn't anything I could do. I was slowly taking over our lives, because I had to. If I went too fast, she would resist me. If I eased her into it. She would calm down and I could help her figure out the problem. I simply had to play the spoiled brat. I did manage to get a car I could drive, and they let me. 

While I allowed them to take care of me, I went to school. Trying to get an education and trying to get a job. The problem was, they were still handing everything to me, and I needed them to. I needed these things to learn how to care for myself, under their watchful eyes. I went back to trying to figure out how to get free. I wanted it, I got it, I never had to fight for it. That is what they kept telling me. At the same time they wouldn't allow me. "You don't know what is like to live without." Well they were right. I didn't know what it was like to live without my family. I needed them. They made sure of that. I have been whining about everything they needed for years and they thought it was them getting it done. I heard their words. They put the food on the table. They made the house look good. They did it. They did it all it wasn't me. I didn't let them kill me by being their slave, and doing what I could where I could. I'm not dying because of them. I believed it that too. Except it wasn't true.

They kept telling me I was weak and needed them. When the whole time, it was them who needed me. They needed me to play the baby. 

While playing the baby, I made sure they kept paying their own bills. When playing the baby, I allowed them to move me where they wanted. When playing the baby, I ran off the people they told me to. It would be my fault. When playing the baby, I helped them get the person they wanted, and cast them away when they were done. When playing the baby, I orchestrated their life exactly how they wanted me to. I took the blame. When they wanted to move, I moved. I pitched a fit for them. When they wanted a ride. They used me to get it. I was their puppet. I allowed them to use me, and they used me well. Every part of me. 

I studied them. Learned their strengths and weaknesses. I waited for my turn to make my move. I didn't know how I was going to get free, but by God I would. I never could.  When they weren't looking, I was. I was looking for my escape. It never came. When I found a way. I got scared, and allowed them to make me feel I couldn't make it on my own. Eventually, I started to believe it.

It wasn't until, they force me to give up something I loved with all my heart. I put my foot down and suddenly it was war. I wanted out, They wanted to keep me. They wouldn't let me go, so I arranged it where they would want to leave me. I had to wait. When someone doesn't play by your rules, you get bored and leave them. That is what they taught me. My father blamed me for my mom wanting to leave her. When it was his fault. My mother blamed me for leaving. When it was her fault. My brother's blamed me for never talking to them, when it was their fault. I carried their blame, I carried their guilt, I carried it all. It almost broke me.

I wasn't lost, yet. 

They lost me. They abused me. They used me. They pulled the life out of me.

I simply allowed it.

No more.

My middle brother came back in our lives. He was the only one who got free. I got to hang out with him, and I tried to see him. My brother wasn't there. I had to wait. Eventually, my brother went to collage, got a job. Made something out of himself, and then he stumbled upon god. Found a life there he liked, found a wife who saw the good man he had become. Saw the peace in him. Saw his family and didn't run. They simply looked at what I held together, and said bring it on. Maybe it was all gods plan. Maybe it was simply my brother. Slowly one by one, he took in his lost family from me. First our father. Then our older brother and his current wife. Things got a little easier on me. It wasn't enough. Grandma passed away. They told me I was dying. I was handed a ticket with a time stamp. 

I went to my brother's and told them. I also told my father what the doctors said. If I kept going the way I was going, I was going to dye. 

My mom started to plan my funeral. She picked out my plot. I crawled into myself and locked myself away. She fell into a dark depression because I wasn't taking her with me anymore. I couldn't I didn't want to be around her. When I was, I wanted to kill her. I did everything I could do to not want that anymore. I turned on myself, why, because it was my fault. I broke my mother, to free her, and I had to deal with it. Death was my reward.

My sister in law got pregnant. The one thing I couldn't give to my mom. The first baby didn't survive. Then another miscarriage, and they needed her. At least they though. She went down to be with them and I let her. I sat down with the man they didn't want me to be with and told him what was going on and he told me. "Lets fight." We did.

If I could survive them. What made them think I could not survive this world? They tough me every thing I need to know. What I want doesn't matter. What I need doesn't matter. It's all about them. They didn't care what they were doing to me. I could be spoiled, as long as I kept playing taking the fault. 

That didn't work for me. I wasn't getting anything out of this deal, but death. 

 It was time to live for me. I was alone. I had to save myself. This time from them. I let her go, but this time. I started a huge fight before she left. When she got there she thought of me. She called me and we didn't do anything but scream at each other. 

My husband, simply let me pitch my fit. They called, I wouldn't run. They screamed, I screamed back. Finally, the calls stopped. They checked in on me every now and again. And I was alone, but I wasn't alone.

It took me time to fight through the clutter they made in my head. To sort out all the data I collected. To find out I didn't need them. They need me. I can do this. I can clean my own house. I can have a job. I can run my own life. I can be free. I can stop caring. I can die. I can give up. I can do anything I want to do. Look at where they are now. I fought them my whole life to keep them together till my family came back together. I panicked. I had to see I made the right choice. 

My middle brother's wife got pregnant and they wanted me to come down. I was petrified. 

When I stood before them, I stood at the moment where for once someone saw me. My middle brother. He told me years ago, he didn't know what love was. He just needed time to find it. I told them he would come and he did. I told them, I didn't care, and I don't. I told them I could do it alone. I always have been. I told them everything. I even told Them goodbye. They didn't listen.

I played the right cards at the right time to line them all up right where I wanted them. I Put them where I needed, and then I said my good bye. My brother took over for me. I thanked him and headed home. 

They are exactly where I want them. Away from me. So I can breath.

On my trip back, I saw myself slipping back into old habits. I cried. Once again I was allowing them to take care of me, why because they would. However, this time someone saw me. For a moment he saw me. No judgement. No tears. No words. He let me wallow. This time he saw what he left me to. He let me pitch my fit. Then let me go home. He understood. I just want to alone now. I'm not going to fight them anymore. If that makes me a spoiled brat. I can own that. 

If peace and quiet is the price I have to pay for giving myself nothing. I am prepared for it, because I can't take anything with me when I die anyways. If I stay with them, death isn't a punishment. It is my reward. If I stay with them, I'm dead anyways. At least this way, I call the shots. If that makes me a spoiled brat.

I am a spoiled brat. I have been a spoiled brat all my life. 

That is just fine with me. We all owe this to me.

This man beside me. He wants me along for his ride. Cause I gave them happiness. He did the same with his family. We just want to be left alone. They got this. They don't need us anymore. If they do. We are just a phone call away.

Except, I'm the spoiled brat. And no one likes a spoiled brat.

I love you, too.

The thought of this always playing in my mind is why I must do the rest on my own. I am not a spoiled brat when I am away from them. At home we got a truck. And with that truck we can do anything. I know what to expect at the end of this story. I will go to visit them from time to time, because they are my family. They are hell. They are blood. They are happy, I'm going to make sure they stay that way. I will give them everything they want. I will give them a Spoiled Little Brat. 

Besides We all need to remember who we are every once in a while. That is how we keep fighting this war we call life. 

I used their emotions to save them, because they couldn't save me. I still wanted My own life. Paid for by me. The price had always been too high to pay. I allowed myself to pay this price over and over. Allowed my self to become twisted and mangled into a monster, because they needed me to.

It's all my fault. I let them turn me into a spoiled Brat. 

This was my chance to run. Just like on those web pages the story doesn't end here, before I left. Where I tried to tell them about my life here they didn't listen. When I tried to show them a picture, they didn't want to see. They wanted me there, but they didn't want to see me. When I spoke to them, it was as if I didn't exist. They know better for me. They know what's best. I am a spoiled brat.

They are all jealous. I found the life they stole all on my own. I have nothing but him, and a truck, a dog, a cat, a few fish, a mink. I am happy. I let them still my life, and here in the darkness, I found love. Where the sharks eat your soul I found someone, who was waiting on the side lines. For once in my life I am not alone. God didn't save me, if you want to give him credit. Go ahead. I did. Why because he let me. It doesn't matter if I believe. Simply because I let them take it from me, and let them believe I found it. The beauty of it they will never know the truth. The truth would hut them. In this trip I found peace. They will never know how they hurt me, because I won't allow them to see. I never needed to forgive anyone of anything. I already had. It wasn't ever their fault. I allowed it.  

I don't know what is in store for me next. All I know is I have what I need. I have our truck. I have my check. He has his art. I have my pets. We might have to let them take care of us, while we start out. We might have to play the spoiled brat for them from time to time. There isn't anything we wouldn't do for them. They did nothing for us, except everything. We did it all for them. To sum it up I did everything they said I did. Not for my self. They asked me to. I played the brat, the villein, the hero, then needy, the helpless, the stalker, and the best friend. I played the part they asked me till they were done with me. I am exactly what they made me, free.

Now, I can become who I want. Free of their judgement. Free of their jealousy. Free of their eyes. That is exactly where they want me. Waiting, for when they need me. To go back and fix things. Return this spoiled brat.

While I wait, I'm going to live how I want. A rebel, someone strong enough to defeat the odds. I am going to find my voice, and tell my story to the world. I'll never leave them behind. They owe me everything, and nothing at all. 

Besides, they are about to bring more children into this world. Who do you think they are going to run to when they can't figure out what to do and run away. Me. I will be there. Waiting with our little truck. Here when they need me, to swoop in and catch a stray. Sitting on the side lines. Happy. Away from the noise. At peace. Ready to die for them. They scratch my back, I'll scratch theirs. They take care of me, I'll take care of them. I'll be the spoiled brat when they need me and the stalker when they don't. I'll let them pay for me to live here, as long as they let me live. Try to cage me again, and I'm gone. I'm not an animal. I'm a worrier princess. I've defeated all my monsters, by taming them. They excepted my care, and I excepted theirs. No one wins. We stand at a draw.

I'll bide my time, and play my part. When I am ready, I will fly. Right there, our truck, is how. Why doesn't matter. I'm just a Spoiled Brat, until they need me.

I found myself. They can't find me. They are free to believe what they want. As is anyone who reads this. All I know is. I am a spoiled brat because they made me one, and its my fault. Nothing will end her, I will keep going. If I stay, I will die. If I leave, they will kill each other. If I stay I drown. If I leave I live. If so, how is this the end? If I am so bad, why are they happy.
They press my buttons, because they created the buttons, and I love them for it. When they aren't around I am allowed to think for myself. The longer I stay away, the better I get. I know they are still my punishment and will never leave them, but this is also my reward for all my work. They know I am hooked on their crack they call love. At least, now they can blame someone else. Be it my brother. Be it God. Be it myself. This spoiled brat's story doesn't stop here.
So what holds up. I see the pros and cons of each side. I guess its all in how you look at it. There is no hero to my story, there is no bad guy. We all simply played a part. We all wrote an amazing story. Perhaps it is God who put us on this path. Maybe it really was myself. I simply know, i'm not alone anymore, and it doesn't matter. Everything boils down to perspective. In their eyes, I was everything they hated. In my eyes, I was exactly who they trained me to be. Neither is right, and both are right.
Sitting from my prospective, I'm not just a spoiled brat. I'm the reflection they need. Some can see me for a moment, and I thank them. Before they can capture me, I am gone. Asking, do you really need me. Then leaving. They are spoiled brats just like me. It's no one's fault, its everyone's fault. It's all my fault. 

Sited Works,

 Urban Dictionary: Spoiled Brat; https://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Spoiled%20Brat

Spoiled child - Wikipedia; https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spoiled_child