“Mom, what’s for snack today?” I asked as I walked through the door. It was a boring day at      school, with lots of worksheets in math and social studies that I had to work on.
  “I’m tired today, so just get some chips yourself from the pantry, and I’ll get the guacamole out from the refrigerator,” she answered.
     I put my backpack down, and headed for the pantry. Suddenly, my brother came out from nowhere, and tackled me onto the sofa, stuffing my face with a pillow.
  “Michael!” he shouted for my other brother, “Michael, come help me lift Little Fat up!”
  “Ugh.” I groaned, “not again.”
     Michael ran down stairs, two steps at a time, then grabbed hold of my legs to help James pull me up. They took me outside, and after that, threw me into the dumpster.
     I have always hated my brothers. Everyone always says how annoying little siblings are, and how great older siblings are, but that is because they do not actually have an older brother or sister. They just imagine how an older sibling will protect them and help them in homework and things like that. However, older siblings are far worse than younger siblings, especially if your brothers are 18 and 24, and you are only 12. They will go out of their way to annoy you, and you have no way to stop them. If you have a younger sibling, when they annoy you, you can just threaten them, and they will stop. Threatening an older sibling is probably the worst idea ever. If you tell them that you will tell your parents, they will kill you by stuffing you full of your blanket, and you will never be able to call out to your parents. I used to try that tactic, but it failed so many times that I stopped trying. The only thing I can do is to wait until they get bored, and they go back to what they were doing before.
     Finally, some free time, I thought to myself just as I finished my homework. It was a Saturday afternoon, and I had been waiting all week long to be able to have a nice long break from all the work at school, so I went out to play some basketball. I had barely shot the ball twice, when Michael came flying out. I was doing an in and out move against an imaginary defender when he poked the ball out with his left hand, and then used his right hand to control it. He did not shoot it or give the ball back to me, and just kept dribbling.
  “Come on Michael, just let me have the ball,” I said, “I’m tired, and I just want to shoot around. At least let me play one on one with you.”
  “Try to steal the ball from me first! I bet you can’t get it! I will only play one on one if you can steal the ball from me,” he taunted. I tried to get the ball from him but, as always, I failed. There was no way for me to get the ball from him. I got too tired and bored, so I went back inside.
  So much for some free time, I thought, I can’t even have some time for myself.
     A few months past, and things went on like always. Me coming home from school, my brothers come to tackle me, and then thinking of something to do to me that was worse than anything they ever did to me before.
     One day I was feeling a special need for sweets.
  “Bye mom!” shouted Michael as he went out to go mountain biking.
  “Ride safely!” answered my ever worrying mom.
     I was doing my homework, and after I heard my brother leave, I reached past his name plate that he made in woodshop, which said his name, “Michael”, and got two Oreos from the pack that he bought from 7-Eleven. After satisfying myself, I went back to doing my homework, thinking that Michael will never notice.
     Boy was I wrong! When he came home, he immediately went to the box to get an oreo. Suddenly, he was up and on top of me.
  “Randy, did you take any of my oreos!?” he yelled into my ear.
  “Um, no,” I lied.
  “Yes you did, and now you are dead for doing it!”
  “How do you know, huh?” I challenged, “It could have been James.”
  “James has his own box of oreos, why would he take mine?”
  “Uh, I don’t know, maybe h-”
  “I KNOW IT WAS YOU WHO DID IT, AND NOW YOU LIED TO ME! I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!! THERE WERE 12 OREOS BEFORE I LEFT, AND NOW THERE IS ONLY 10! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU NOT TO TOUCH ANY OF MY STUFF!”
  Man, I’m dead, I thought to myself, He even keep tracks of how many oreos he has?
     He tackled me onto my bed, stuffed me in my blanket, and sat on top of my head until I was almost suffocating from lack of oxygen. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he thought that was enough punishment for me, and got up to go look at his computer.
  Yes! I thought to myself, Now I only have to deal with one older brother now. James was leaving because he found a job at GE, which is a computer company that was one and a half hours away from home.
  “Bye James! I’m gonna miss you!” shouted Michael. My parents were crying so much that they could not speak.
  “Bye,” I said, not thinking that I will miss him.
  “See you Fatso. I will miss you,” said James.
  Did he just say that to me? I asked myself, Besides the fact that he won’t be able to tackle anyone anymore, why would he miss me? Didn’t he hate me like I did to him?
     I thought that having only one older brother to worry about was much easier, but that did not mean that the remaining brother stopped doing what he always did. Weeks past, and I started feeling that it was not much better than before. I still had to put up with someone I could not stop.
  Man, I am so lucky! I thought, Both of my brothers are going to be gone!
     Michael was now leaving for college at UC Davis. I could not start to imagine how my life will be like without my brothers. It will be way better, that was for sure. No more tackles coming home from school, no more interrupted free play times, and lots of peace.
  “Bye, Leahcim!” I yelled at him, using the nickname I had for him, which was his name backwards.
  “Bye, Fatso,” he said kind of sad.
  Why is he looking so sad? I asked myself, Maybe it is because he will miss Mom and Dad.
     I thought that it was really weird how both my brothers had that kind of feeling when they left.
     The next day I walked through the door and put my backpack into the closet, procrastinating on washing my lunch container, as usual. As I walked into the kitchen I braced myself for a sneak tackle. It never came.
  Oh yeah, I thought, My brothers are gone!
     After I finished my snack, I went to my desk to do homework. That was when I started noticing an uneasy feeling hanging around me. Everything was so quiet, too quiet. It was obviously because my brothers were not home. I had thought that not having them home would be great, but now I was having second thoughts.
  Why does this feeling keep sticking to me? I asked myself.
     At dinner, it was dead quiet, unlike it used to be. My brothers used to talk all the time at the dinner table. This silence was very eery. I suddenly wished for something that I would have never thought I would wish for. I wished that my brothers would come back.
Two weeks past, and the feeling deepened its grip on me. I was now feeling very desperate for my brothers to come back.
  “Michael is coming back?” I asked, “Why?”
  “He was only going to check out the school,” my mom answered, “ and now he chose to go to San Jose State.”
     My brother, who I thought was going to stay at UC Davis, was coming back. It was only two weeks after he left. I was really missing him, and very glad that he was coming back.
  “BOO!!”
  “AAHH!!”
     My brother snuck up on me, and scared me like crazy. That is the closest we’ll ever get to a welcome back hug.
     As usual, he was immediately back to tackling me, but now I did not dislike it like I used to.
  Oh my God! I thought, This is crazy! It was a week after Michael came back, and I found out that my oldest brother was coming back because his office just moved to San Jose, a ten minute drive from home. I felt very happy, just like when Michael came back.
     Things are now the same as always, but I feel different. My brothers did not change one bit. They did what they always did to me, everyday. However, I came to be glad that they were there, and that I did not have to suffer the hole in my life if they were not there. They were really not all that bad, and I now know that they never disliked me, but actually liked me, and it was just me that did not like them the way they were. Now, I like my brothers the way they are, and will never hate them again.