Short storyMy sister and I were 22 months apart. Almost 2 years. Yet it felt like worlds apart. I was 16, she was 14; an awkward age.
Honestly, she wasn’t a horrible girl. I can’t say she tormented me. Yet everything about her irritated me. From her nasal-toned singing voice to her constantly being loved by everyone, above me; all in all, I envied her. Despite this, she wanted to be like me. Looking back at it now, I should have been flattered.
I took advantage of her reliability. Stupidly, I expected it to be there forever. Evidently, I was wrong.
It all began one summer afternoon. A Sunday, after Church. I was stretched, like a lazy dog, across the couch, claiming it as my territory. I remember the TV show that day. A silly Disney cartoon that had managed to snatch my attention. My mum screamed my name from the other room, she wanted me to go down to the corner shop for her.
Usually, I would make an easily recognisable excuse up, but today I just shrugged and thought, ‘Might as well’. Even though the curtains were closed, beams of sunlight peeped through. Enticing me to go out, the golden threads emerged through. Although as I loomed over the doorway, it became apparent that the weather was freezing.
Speeding up the stairs, two at a time, I went to go and change. Once in my cute purple top, comfy jeans and faithful fuzzy boots, I felt confident enough to deal with the harsh outdoors. “Oh, and take Sophia with you.” WHAT?! My mother didn’t realise it but she had just destroyed my beautiful world. So I was expected to go out, in public, saddled with my little sister. She cannot be serious, why me?
Of course all my excuses and pleas fell of deaf ears. My mother evidently didn’t understand my discomfort.
As we went around shopping, we managed to bump into ALL the cool people – How embarrassing! All the guys from school had just seen my not-nearly-as-cool-as-me little sister with me. Fuming after my encounter, I swore for revenge. I just needed an opportunity and, lo and behold, opportunity came knocking.
Whilst waiting at the bus stop for a bus, my mind was going through a million and one schemes, until I hatched a plan. Setting my plan in motion, I exclaimed, “Sophia, we’re getting on this bus coming. Hurry up!” She stood in front of me, getting ready to get on the bus. Slowly, I slid my foot over the threshold of the bus. Just as my foot left the kerb the bus doors began to close. At the last second, I sprang backwards, avoiding them. I stood shrieking like a little girl who had just won a game at an arcade; I thought I was brilliant…
And then, I saw her face. Her face, framed by the window of the bus. She had witnessed it, she had seen how gleeful I was to have her gone. The sense of pain and betrayal painted her face, she could not hide it at all. Then, and only then, did I realise the distance I’d set in motion. . .
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Sibling relationships are often extremely hard. We hate to admit that we have anything in common with them, but we probably do. Whilst writing this I thought about my siblings. I don’t want them to ever think I hate them, because I don’t. I love them. I would do anything for them. I’m their big sister. I wrote this so I would learn to not underestimate them.
© Copyright. 2012