I love my sister; she is witty, outgoing, busy, loud and a little crazy. These qualities are what make her unique and why so many people are attracted to her, they are also the reasons I despised her. My sister and I were not always the best of friends. I had my days when I felt and wished I were an only child, however, I was stuck with this skinny, loud, obnoxious thing I had to claim I was related to.
As a child I had a younger sister, but just barely. Born only fourteen months after me she received most of the attention. The main reasons being, she was the baby and was more playful. I, on the other hand, was very quiet, and reserved. Typically I considered myself an only child. My sister represented everything I was not and/or could not be. She had more friends, more hobbies and attracted more attention.
When we grew to childhood, the tension grew with us. She became more active while I stayed reserved. She was also skinnier and prettier while I had a pot belly, glasses and a short, bobbed haircut. My sister was a gymnast and cheerleader, I rode horses. Needless to say, we had our share of differences.
My parents like to tell the story of the night I tried to kill her. I don’t remember why, there was probably no reason. We had just taken a bath and were about to get dressed. How I ended up sitting on her scrawny body pinned to the floor I can’t remember, but this is where the attempt takes place. I put my hands around her neck and tried to choke her. I was just entertaining myself at first, until she began to turn blue. I decided then I would probably go to jail if I killed her and released her from my mighty grip. Both standing at the same time we calmly dressed ourselves like it never happened. My sister proceeded to go down stairs, into the kitchen and nonchalantly tell my mother, “Emily just tried to kill me.” Busy cooking dinner she didn’t pay much attention to the little voice who just said her six year old sister tried to murder her after bath time, until my dad jumped out of the chair and ran up the stairs. When my mom turned around to see what he was doing she saw two perfect little hand marks around my younger sister’s neck. To her surprise she was not crying and did not show any signs of distress after she almost had the life choked out of her by her older sister. It was a normal occurrence for me to beat up on her, she didn’t mind as long as I was acknowledging her existence.
As we grew even older into middle school age, my mom would lock herself in her bedroom and cry when I talked to her about my sister. I would openly talk to my mother about the way I felt. I remember telling her that I hated my sister and I wish she was never born. I hated the type of bubbly person she was and how she talked all the time and had a million friends. I thought she was stuck up and annoying. I knew then and am willing to admit it now, the reason I hated her so much is because I wanted to be the type of bubbly, social, annoying person she was. I was immature then and very stubborn. I loved my sister and knew it all along. Even though I might not have known who she really was, she was still my only sibling.
With age comes maturity, once we were both in high school I decided it was time to meet my sister. I lived in the same house with this other girl for fifteen years before I began to open myself up and finally learn who she was. Her name was Alyssa Katlin or Katy and we have more in common than I ever let myself believe.
Mistaken often as twins, we are always noticed as sisters, although it would be hard to misdiagnose our combination of shared characteristics. We both stand at a mere five feet, weighing less than one-hundred pounds with blonde hair.
When I began to acknowledge the other girl living in my house, it was very strange. Just like forming any relationship it started off awkward and slow. Questions like, “Pass the salt” had increased to, “How is cheerleading?” or “What did you do today?” These were questions that strengthened our previous bond of only sharing the same parents and genetics.
After a few months of increased talking on a daily basis I had quickly made another best friend. It was easy because she knew where I came from, how I was raised, who my parents where and dirt from my childhood. I underestimated my little sister when it came to paying attention to me. She confided in me one night that she had always looked up to me and knew one day I would finally acknowledge her existence and be her best friend.
Now that I am in college our relationship is closer than ever. I talk to her daily and I don’t know what I would do without her in my life. Even thought she is technically my younger sister I never think of her as such. We are so close to the same age that it really does not matter. Even though Katy is still in high school she has helped me more than she will ever know throughout my first year of college. My first semester was rough, I remember calling home many nights in tears wanting to talk to a friend because all mine were deserting me. If I hadn’t have had my sister to help me through I might have been a hermit this semester. Luckily I decided to take her advice and get out! This semester I have made many new friends and had such a good time.
I believe in the unconditional support and love of siblings, without my sister I would not be the same person. Now that she is in my life I feel complete, rather than a grumpy child who does not wish to acknowledge she has a sister. Katy is the one person I can count on to be there for me; she is not only my best friend but also my sister. Even though I didn’t spend enough time with her when I was younger, we are making up for lost experiences today. She is witty, outgoing, busy, loud, a little crazy and now, I love her for it.
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