If people were colors, my sister would have been a rainbow. While I was a bold black, filled with a bit too much of everything for it to be pleasant on the eyes, she flaunted every color she had.
Blue deepened to a starling shade at her tears and silent suffering. Red burned maroon to those that had the gall to hurt her or me. Green brightened at her unshakable bliss as she frolicked the fields, weightless, as if her feet were glass and heart of paper. Pink flushed as she wrapped her arms around my waist, loving me like her other half.
My sister was a kaleidoscope of colors. And I loved each and every one of them.