My brother, Christopher, had just turned fifteen that year, and I was almost two years older than him. I’ve always been the pretty, bright and quiet girl and he has been the completely opposite. That’s why it’s been a big challenge for my parents to raise him.
Already the year Christopher turned twelve, he got some new different friends. At first, I thought of it as a positive thing, but when he turned thirteen I realized how bad the situation was. He had become criminal. My parents were chocked to hear about it, and immediately forbid him to go out of the house. Of course it didn’t help at all, what did they expect?
My parents thought they were good parents to him, but they weren’t. They didn’t know Christopher at all. He had changed a lot, and he said he wouldn’t talk to us anymore. It hurt me, hearing him saying that, but I also knew, he didn’t really mean it.
Christopher came home late every single night, one night I heard my dad shout at him; “Turn around, I’m talking to you. How many times have I told you to keep away from those kids? They’re nothing but trouble and up to no good.” He was right. My brother was heading for trouble. Something had to be done and I knew how to help him.
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