I have a younger brother. He married at a very young age just eighteen. I never really understood why he was in such a hurry. I suppose he wanted to prove he was grown up and able to live independently. Since we were children, Id always been used to looking after him; my childhood practically ended the day he was brought home from hospital. I was only ten then, but as the eldest, I was expected to take care of him constantly. As the years went by, he matured, got married, and eventually left us behind. His wife was also eighteen, and she had a particularly strong personality.
From the very beginning, we didnt take to her. She was rather tactless, poorly mannered, and frankly not easy on the eye. I often wondered what my brother saw in her. The two of them lived in a flat not far from her parents house. Her father was a quiet man, though I always found him a bit odd. He rarely spoke, often just shaking his head in silence. Her mother, on the other hand, liked to be in charge; she issued orders to everyone and nobody dared disobey her, mostly because there wasnt much choice. She constantly found fault with my brother, criticised him, and was forever complaining about him. His wife, too, was never satisfied with anything he did.
They treated my brother terribly. Naturally, I was unhappy about it. I tried talking to him, but he always insisted that things were fine, his wife loved him, and they were happy with their life. Over time, I began to notice changes in my brother; he started to resemble his father-in-law, saying little and often just shaking his head. Then, one day, his patience ran out. He packed up his things and simply walked away from them. Id never seen him in such a state. He deeply regretted marrying so young. Everyone has their limits and, when those are pushed too far, they eventually walk away.
