I get a call from my mom, who is slurring her words telling me to call my brother to calm him down. For years my older brother and I have fought with are parents about their drinking. We become agitated when their drunk and over the years the fighting has worsened. From yelling, to breaking things, to physicals fights. I can't tell you how many times the police has been to our house. After speaking to my brother who was past the point that I could clam him down, I hung up, and turned off my phone. I did not want to here it. I'm away at college, and they call me with this. I have 4 exams next week alone, I don't have time to deal with all their issues. I attempted to go back to studying, but every minute that went by I became more anxious and sick to my stomach. Eventually I called back to concerned to do anything. I call my mom 3 times, then my brother 3 times, and no answer. Panicked I call my mom who in hysterics tells me that my brother is going berserk, broke her nose, and breaking everything in the house. She left out that my brother hit my dad a few times. After several minutes of confusion and being hung up on, I try to convince my brother to come to the phone. He cries tell me he messed up, saying he did not mean to hit mom only dad. Which I believe he'd never raise a hand to my mother, not matter how mad. She often tries to jump in and break up the fight so she often gets hurt on accident. When I'm home I usually protect her, after all she's a small woman. I usually clean up the mess, and take care of the wounds. I usually make sure that everyone is still alive, not dying from alcohol poisoning, and that everyones get to bed. That's what I do, that's my job. I don't care that I'm the youngest, or that I do everything without being asked, or that I have other things to worry about. All I want to do is drive home now, help pick up the pieces, and make everything all better so Monday everyone can pretend nothing happened. I'm so sick, my heart wants to be home, but I'm so tired of all of this. Why doesn't things get better, why can't I get mad at my mom, or my dad, for being drunks, or my brother for acting like a child throwing a tantrum. Why do I want to be home, when at school I don't have to worry about the fighting. Why do I care?