Ginger Little Bunny

Stressed out of my mind, I turned around and went to the kitchen to make my special mix of tea that eases the stress and anxiety, composed of chamomile, peppermint, and lavender teas with lemon balm.

And as I was waiting for it to boil, short arms hugged my leg and my mood went from horrible to happy in the same instant as I looked down and found my baby brother's messy ginger curls and blue eyes on me.

"Zee, I missed you," he pouted in Polish and I kneeled at his height then held him in my arms and got up.

"Big sis missed you too, bunny," I kissed his cheeks, forehead, nose, and cheeks again, making him laugh. Laugh so brightly that his light pushed all of my problems to the darkness. "Did you have breakfast, bunny?"

"Mmhm," he smiled, hugging my neck that is now covered again. He's too young to understand that not all marks in our body are bad. "Can you make my wintel choco, Zee?"

He is the phase where he's switching all R's for L's because he still find it a bit hard to pronounce it. Adorable. But he's very smart for his age, the doctors said he's been doing everything sooner than other kids, walking, speaking well, and everything. He's my little genius.

He's also way bigger than he should for a two-year-old kid, he's always been bigger since he was little baby. He's turning 3 in less than three months, but he's the size of a 4 year old already, the doctor said he'll definitely be a tall kid if this keeps going. Thank God for that. His birth parents must have be really tall.

It's not a surprise to have a kid like him in my family, since I, too, was very early on everything. Standing up at three months and only God knows how, walking at six months, saying my first words at seven months─ and guess what? My parents lost all of it. Why? Because I was taken care of by a nanny, yay, amazing, ain't it?

At Cyryl's age I was already running around like a jet, and speaking perfectly too. I used to talk a lot and be extra hyperactive, still I wasn't anymore and my ADHD went from being extra hyperactive to having an extra attention deficit. It all changed when I was 8 years old, weeks before I turned 9, when I first caught my mom cheating on my dad with my aunt, then half a year later I caught my dad cheating on my mom with my godmother, and two months after I turned 10, I saw my dad and my godmother dying.

It fucked me up big time. The extra talkative kid died and it took a year and eight months to speak a word after they died. I avoided everyone even Cecylia, I didn't smile, I didn't play, I didn't do shit aside from studying and reading and concentrating in my martial arts and fighting classes, in ice skating, in the piano, in anything that didn't require me to freaking speak.

They diagnosed me with severe PTSD, I also had night terrors, panic attacks, and shit like that. Which I still have, eventually, but I'm controlling myself better now, and no one, not even Cecylia, knows that this still happens to me. I make sure to only breakdown when I'm locked in my room, which is thankfully soundproof. And while a part of me absolutely hate my parents for all they did, the bigger part loves them too much and is freaking broken, wounded and beaten up.

My mom doesn't freaking help. She got officially together with aunt Monika only SIX months after dad died with her best friend. It was just another level of fucked up to me. I couldn't even look at their faces without feeling like puking my guts.

It's been almost 7 years. I haven't fully fucking healed yet, and I'm doing my best to deal with this whole mess. My dad was a jerk, but he was a better dad than mother was a mom to me. When we were together, he tried, and I used to value all of that like one values a diamond.

He took me to watch games, he taught me math before I learned it in school, he taught me how to draw, he taught how to ice skate, he taught me how to walk on a bike, he taught me how to bake and make ice cream, he taught me how to make many types of coffee. Dad taught me the value of literature, he taught me about books and bought me many, he taught me how to play the piano. He was also the one who put me in martial classes, weaponry fighting classes, swimming classes, and made sure to spare with me on the rare occasions he had time. He also allowed me to watch him making his Architecture projects as long as I stayed quiet.

Dad was a busy man, he had no week time, but he tried on the weekends. He knew he had lost precious time with me, but opposite to mom who didn't try and just threw me on classes without teaching me shit of it, dad tried his all to pass his knowledge on the things he loved the most to me. Even if he only had 30 hours weekly free, he didn't push me away, but he did act like it was rather a duty to do it than because he was happy and wanted to show he cared. He was robotic even, but I didn't care, all I cared was that I was with my dad.

But of course, that wasn't enough. Dad missed all of my important dates, even some of my birthdays─ keep in mind that dad always cared more than mom did.─ That shit hurt as hell, and the fact that 80% of my week time I was fucking alone with the nannies, used to wound my heart and make me feel neglected. Even after they made a career for themselves, they kept neglecting me.

No wonder I got mommy and daddy issues. How could I not? They gave me everything except what I wanted. Quality time, to be cared for, love, attention. They had many people to do their work for them, and they could pass it to them to be able to spend time with me, but they didn't. They never did. I was painfully aware of that.

I was always a smart kid, by 8 years old, I was studying with the 11-year-old kids of 6th grade, and I was the top 1 in class, followed by Cecylia. When I was 11, I was studying with the 14-year-old kids. By the time I was 14, I was near the end of highschool and studying with the 17-year-old kids.

So, even back then, I was never fooled by a fantasy that they wanted to be with me and couldn't because of work. They didn't want to be with me, they wanted to work, they were both insufferable workaholics who thought working was better than raising the little daughter they irresponsibly had together.

Maybe that's why I never met mom's family. Maybe she never felt like I was important enough to get near her siblings and parents and cousins. She almost never tells me about them, when she does, it's to curse them, especially Queenie, Knightdale, and King, the three youngest. God knows why my grandparents would put such names on these kids, at least mom has a normal one.

I wouldn't know, since I never met them. Well, they did meet me when I was newborn, but that doesn't freaking count. Uncle Krystian once told me at the time they couldn't take care of me instead of my parents because they all had children around the time mom did, so I may have many cousins around my age. Never met them, though. Not that I would ever remember.

From dad's side I have more cousins around Cyryl's age and kids than my age. And the ones who are near my age are all busy having children of their own. It's bizarre how in both side everyone had kids too young.

I mean, nothing can't be as bizarre as the fact that eight of my cousins married each other, so, four couples of cousins who now have kids with each other too. Incest be damned. My family certainly doesn't care about that, maybe that's why they didn't even bait an eyelash when mother began to officially date my dad's sister.

It's weird. I mean, it's really freaking weird. I know it was very common centuries ago to marry brothers and sisters, cousins, uncles and nieces, and even father and daughters, but ugh. It's messed up.

At least my mind gets messed up with that, to have a mother who's both my mother and my aunt. Or in the case of a child from Cecylia and uncle Krystian forbidden romance, who will have her father and grandfather in one person. You can't tell me it isn't messed up.

I mean, by now I'm used to it, of course. I grew up near dad's family, and we always pass all holidays together, and they think incest is alright. They actually encourage their kids to be with their siblings' kids, 'To keep the inheritance in the family.' and shit like that. Cecylia and uncle Krystian certainly enjoy that environment.

Hah, nothing beats how fucked up what's happening between them is, and I'm used to it already. Still shocked, but okay with it, since they seem disgustingly happy and ridiculously in love with each other. Besides, they were happy and relieved when I didn't judge them, which happened because I was already aware that Cecylia felt something very forbidden for her dad, she had confided in me with it when we were 15, and back then I was in dismay, now it's old news.

The only thing that's kinda new, is the fact that he also felt something very forbidden for his own child. At least he never forced anything, was respectful, and only did act on it because Lia pretty much jumped on him naked, to make him react. She has the guts I wish I had, because, damn, my best friend is a courageous one, even if it took her years to do something, as soon as she got emancipated tried to do something, took her some months but she actually freaking did it and it worked.

Giggling to myself, I watched my baby brother smiling, "Wintel choco, wintel choco," he sang.

By 'wintel' aka winter choco, he means my secret recipe of hot cocoa, which I make for him everyday since he turned 2 years old. It's almost been a year, as he'll soon be 3 years old in February 26th, he's a Pisces.

I'm a Capricorn with rising in Aries and moon in Scorpio. Bad, bad, bad. It is what it is.

Mom is a Scorpio and dad was an Aries, so it must be karma. Thinking about it, Rafał also is a Scorpio. Though he's from October 25th, while mother is from November 9th. Dad's birthday was in April 3rd, and aunt Monika is of the Cancer sign from July 12th.

Uncle Krystian is a Gemini from June 7th, aunt Kamila was a Leo from August 1st while Cecylia is also a Scorpio from October 22nd. It's funny because Cecylia has the same main signs as me, as she's a Scorpio with rising in Aries and moon in Capricorn. Our moons are just switched.

"Of course, I can. Anything for you, bunny," I kissed his chubby cheek again and as he smiled, his dimples popped up. He looks like a children of a our family for real, I'm happy they adopted him as a little baby. It made my life brighter, as I was deeply depressed even if I was hiding it, when he came into my life.

I sat him on his special tall chair in front of the island in the middle, that has belts to hold him in his place, since he moves a lot and we are scared of him falling.

Falling like I did when I was his age and my nanny at the time fainted and fell over the place I was in, making me fall and hit my head in the pointy end of the table. I almost fucking died and had to do a emergency surgery because I was loosing too much blood. If I press the back of my skull, under my hair, hard enough, I can still feel the scar from it.

I'll never let that happen to my little brother. That happened to me because they left me in the care of a stranger, since they were too worried about their career to take care of me. At least they are focusing all they can on my little brother and he won't need to be surrounded by nannies. He's loved it a way I never was, not by my parents.

When they tried to reconnect it was already too fucking late. The trauma was installed and I had already given up on the idea of ever being enough to them, of ever receiving their love for free, the same way I always loved them. My baby brother won't go through that. He has them, he has me, and he has many cousins his age form dad's side... Monika's in his case, which is the same as they were siblings.