What would life had been like with an older brother or sister close at hand? I wonder this at least once a week when I am by myself in my room angry, depressed, or confused over something like an argument I had with one, or both, of my two younger siblings. Not that I have many fights with Jamie and/or Bryce or that I am angry and/or depressed abundantly, just sometimes I wish there is an older sibling to talk to, to give me advice, to teach me, as well as many other things. A sibling to take more responsibility off my shoulders. It was possible, it could have happened, but didn't.
             In the fifth grade my parents decided that I could finally have a dog. My mom and I went to the pet store and there were two snow-white American Eskimos. I told my mom I wanted the one that was not half asleep, she told the employee, and the employee let the dog out of the cage so I could play with it and make my final decision. Once the dog came out, the other dog woke up and once he realized that his brother was going to be taken away, the dog started to cry. When I heard the dog's tears, I started to shed my own tears. My mom knew I wanted him, so she got him anyway. I never knew why that struck me the way it did until I was told things I never knew.
             Around the beginning of my eighth grade year my dad's casino failed, my parents fought, and my dad lied to my mom numerous times. Finally she had enough of it, filed for bankruptcy, and separated from my dad. So I lived with my mom, my brother, and my sister. Within a few months my mom told me all of my dad's lies, his half-truths, and that I could have had an older brother or sister. But being at a somewhat young age with brainwashing, courtesy of my dad, my mom was talked into an abortion. This was a shock to me and always will be.
             I consider my life to be fairly well: great friends, an interestingly supportive family, an decent environment. I just wish I had someo...