I was six years old and everything seemed so new to me, I was just starting my first full day of school at Saint Francis and only knew a few kids from my kindergarten class. That first day of school I met Mary and Margaret, whom to this day I am still best friends with. I consider them way more friends, they are my second sisters. And likewise their families are my second families. They treat my siblings as their own, and I treat theirs like mine too, we are all completely comfortable around each other, if I don’t answer my cell phone my sister has no problem picking it up and having a conversation with them. Going to their houses is just like being at home. The same for when they come over to my house. My mom doesn’t even blink when I tell her Mary and Margaret are over. We all know where everything is and whenever someone needs something the response is “Get it yourself!” I am so comfortable with them that we don’t have to be doing anything just sitting around and lounging is our idea of a fun night together. I’ll be on the phone with them for hours and hours at a time talking about absolutely nothing, and half the time we’re never serious, unless we really have to be there for each other, then no one can compare the consolation they offer me.
I can never be truly mad at these two girls, and I cannot imagine my life without them, I’d be losing part of myself. As Christina Yang from Grey’s Anatomy said, “If I murdered someone, she’s the person I’d call to help me drag the corpse across the living room floor. She’s my person.” They are my people, as twisted and unrealistic as an example that is, I know that they will always be there for me no matter what. They say best friends are just sisters god forgot to give us. I believe that Margaret and Mary are my sisters, and I am the luckiest girl in the world for having two extra families, two extra houses and the best sisters in the world to be my shoulder to cry on, my fun, my memories, my everything.
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