Fattening My Golden Brother

Summary

When I opened my eyes again, the world smelled of stale grease and desperation. My brother, Tyler, was mid-shove, cramming his sixth drumstick into a mouth already slick with oil.

My mother stood over me, the thin, stinging switch in her hand twitching like a snake’s tail. She pointed toward the treadmill in the corner of our cramped living room.

"Get on it," she snapped. "Your brother’s eating for two today. You need to burn off those calories before they settle in his gut."