The Picture

She drew a picture of a zipper going down my mom and I stared at the picture on the refrigerator with a frown. We analyzed the picture as if we were psychologists and tried to unearth the real meaning What could a zipper going down symbolize I glanced back and forward at her and it A dark thought crept into our heads What if she was being touched and this was her way of crying out for help I stared into her eyes with new found fear could my brother be touching this child? Every since I could remember I had been calling her my niece but in reality we weren't connected by blood My brother had taken her dead beat dads place and entered himself as her daddy in this race it was the honorable thing to do and because he was being so damn charitable we never let that dark thought come about again. It was a couple of years later when the picture finally came to life and the girl finally ended her silence I've never been so embarrassed our first inclination was right and now she is forever ruined by a supposed father figure and my older brother. Now he is locked away. Him and his sins behind bars. I will never forgive what he has done. My only regret is that I didn't realize this sooner. That day. That fear I felt. The picture.