Emotional blackmail

Every family has a black sheep. Mine is no exception. My little brother is the proverbial black sheep.

He used to appear at the most ungodly hours knocking at my door, asking for money. “You´ve got money sister, you work, I need it to cover up my debts or I´ll end up in prison”. It was blackmail, no more and no less. Because of course, much as I would like to send him to hell and face the consequences of his acts once and for all, I could not stand the thought of my mother travelling to jail to see her imprisoned son.  He took to ask my redneck in-laws for money, too.

When I moved, I asked everyone not to give him my address and telephone numbers; I simply wanted him out of my life forever.

So far I have succeed; but just so far.

Because my sisters are celebrating their daughters ´ first communion at my house. And one of them has spilled the beans: he told the black sheep all about it. And the black sheep has grabbed his chance all right.  He phoned my mother and poured his heart out, his unhappiness at being left out, his not understanding why his beloved sister does not want to see him again.

And so I am back to the emotional blackmail: either I accept the black sheep in my house, or my mother will not come. I will make everyone unhappy: the black sheep who do so loves me, my sisters, my daughters, my nieces who want to be with their grannie will be deprived of her company, everyone will be unhappy…. and it´s all my fault.

I am the most cruel of daughters, the most cruel of sisters, the most cruel person on Earth.