She is the Phoenix of Flatbush

You saw me. You helped me. You saved me.

I may never be able to put into words what you mean to me little sis. We both lost a lot, but sometimes I feel like you lost even more. I was supposed to stand up tall. Block the sun from you eyes like a skyscraper in the sky.

You know how my brain gets sometime so I threw in a rhyme. That's the Flatbush in me. Still can't believe you live in Sheepshead Bay now, but I guess that was to get a little breathing room from ma.

Speaking of which. Two kids from Brooklyn born to immigrant parents. Were they ever in love? Maybe? But that is not the stuff that dreams are usually made from.

And yet, you're a dream. At least to me.

There are tons of stories that start there. Most of them go nowhere. A few to the desert mirage of dreams melted into ash. Several turn into nightmares. More than few stuck in the past.

Not yours though. For the chosen ones like you, beacons that light the way so the rest of us might possibly escape our extend play dark nights of the soul. You stood tall and rose past the demons and above skyscapers like a mothereffing tree of life.

Not going to sugarcoat it. You're a force of nature.

I know it cost you a lot. You still can't sleep because of the night terrors. I guess the daily beatings at 5am left there mark. You deserve to sleep in a bed. That is the least this world could have given you. Instead the couch is your safe place. And I get it. It is bad enough to have lived with a narcissist parent. Even worse when that parent is your mother.

She was supposed to be there for you. Protect you. Not try and consume you like the old gods, but I guess she is from an old world. Where eating your young will keep you crystallized in a glory that never was.

Enough of that. This is about you! You shine girl. I'm tearing up writing this letter, and I know that you are supposed to blow up. I may have flamed out, but you held strong. I tried to make it and make you proud. But I just couldn't do it.

Remember all the times we hoped we could just make it big and live next door to each other? Well I'm not so sure that I'm going to get there. But I want you to know I tried.

Sometimes I get worried that you are going to give to much to all your clients. Too much to worrying about how things are going to work out with him. Too much to a woman who unfortunately is nothing like a mother should be.

And I know you can handle it all. You got that mind like a steel trap. You listen to everyone elses problems. I applaud you for that. That is why I will always be there to listen to yours.

That day she left a mark I should have called the cops,. The social services system failed us man. I failed us. I feel bad for thinking about leaving, but that house wasn't home it was hell.

And yet somehow through all of that, you did your thing. I'm not going to write all you accomplishments on here because you would be embarrased, and thats not my goal.

I just want to say that I am super proud of you today and always. Don't worry about the timer on the clock. You love him? It will sort itself out. Those goals you have? Let the the racists and prejudice of the old white guard therapists, psychologists, and legal system get indigestion from your stoic shine.

The only advice I can give you is write that book. Don't worry about how it's going to come out. Just sit down, hit the keys and think about those days we played Final Fantasy for hours.

It may sound silly, but get emotional about it. Take yourself back and bring those smiles to the here and now.

We would get lost in those worlds man. And when I look back, of course escape was our thing. But you can do it! I want to see your book on the bestseller list and be like,"Yeah, she did that." Not very deep, but I wrote it that way on purpose.

Anyway, I don't know why I'm writing this to you in a contest. But I'm off that Nigerian penchant for secrecy. I guess you gotta hide unhealthy cultural norms.

I'm bitter. It is what it is.

But one day I want to show you this. And maybe it might just be ok to good. I remember a time when I was crying and I said sorry for being a failure. You told me something I can't remember, but it's a moment I'll never forget. But you told me I wasn't.

I smile to myself, because I'm not sure of the answer yet. But I'm still trying, and that's because of you. You're the strongest person I know sis.

They can't stop you. She can't stop you. And even though I'm not much of the brother I wanted to be. You will always have someone that will always be your number one fan.

I love you sis. You're my very best friend.

You're the Phoenix of Flatbush

I.A.