The last time I fought with my little brother was when I was around seven. Those fights ... The memories of the punching,hitting, kicking and chasing still make me shudder. I made full use of the fact that I was bigger and stronger than he was back then. There was a time when he took to biting to defend himself. I don't blame him. I can never remember why we fought, but I never hated my brother. The fights would start because of a flash of irritation and they never lasted long. Then we grew up, and we never fought again. My friends at school used to envy me. Their little brothers and sisters were highly annoying and they thought that my brother was some sort of an angel because he never followed me around or messed with my stuff. Inside, I would swell with sisterly pride. I was fiercely protective of my brother. I would hold his hand and walk with him ( perhaps 'drag him' is more appropriate) to the bus stop.The mothers waiting there noticed this, and I was prais...