Personal image of my brother Jackson, me, and my boyfriend, Jake. (In order left to right) Hot Sauce when I was eight years old, I created new daily plot to kill my four-year-old sister I locked her outside in the “too scary” dark I rolled her down the driveway in my “too big” rollerblades I left her hanging at the mercy of the “too tall” monkey bars I always knew my little sister was different, shit, for a solid month of her four-year-old life the only word she would utter was “hot sauce” thus, earning her the appropriate nickname Hot Sauce it was not until eighth grade that I realized just how “weird” that kid was acting out in class, being sent home from school, never felt herself my senior year of high school, Hot Sauces’ freshman year we had a class together, physical science I noticed that the name “Jackson” made a reoccurring appearance across her notebooks The name scrawled in loving calligraphy obsessively across her lab journal s...
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