United States

Female. Youngest of six. Pretty (?), sarcastic, Tom-boyish, and very much a geek.

Message from Writer

I guess I should say honest feedback is best but nothing crazy brutal. That said, please don't go to the other extreme and try to spare my feelings. Be descriptive and truthful because I really want to improve.

I'd Be Easy If We Weren't Related

August 21, 2014

PROMPT: Unrelated


I grab my black raincoat off the coat rack and head outside, slamming the door. I hear my sister yell from the door, "It's not even raining!" God, I hate her. Jane always teases me about everything: my short hair, the way I talk, even the way I dress. I LIKE my raincoat. It's light and unlike those frilly jackets she always wears, it has pockets that can fit more than a penny in them. It makes it easy to take all my important possessions with me: my wallet, phone, keys, and a map. I have my credit card shoved in my wallet and a few twentys jammed in there, too. With the income from my summer job, it'd be enough to get out of town for a few days, that's for sure. New York isn't exactly the cheapest place to live, but I could take a combo of the subway and the train and get rather far. But I don't wanna go; I wanna stay. I find myself in front of one of the many skyscrapers that pop up around this city like weeds and stop, realizing that I have no idea where I'm going. That isn't to say I'm lost, though. Jane and I pass by this building all the time, so I guess my feet were just following a familiar path. The front of the building is made of glass, showing off the fancy lobby, but when you stand back, you can tell the upper part of the building is made of sturdy stuff. A couple years back, I told my sis that I wanted to work in a place as nice looking as this. She replied that if that was my only standard, I'd have one heck of a time choosing a major for college. I want to scream and curse at the thought of her words. It's not fair. We do everything together. Sports, clubs, homework; we practically spend the entire day with each other. She doesn't just get to leave me here at home and go halfway around the world to stupid California just 'cause she's eighteen! It'd be so much easier if I just hated her. We bicker and fight every other week. That's gotta count for something, right? Some part of me has to hate her guts, doesn't it? Can't it? If I hated her, I wouldn't care about any of it. But every time I think about her leaving- ARRG! It's not fair, it's not fair, it's NOT FAIR! I don't know when I started pacing angrily in front of the building or when I stopped to sit on the pavement and bawl, hands switching between rubbing my eyes and getting themselves jammed into my hair. All I know is she's gonna be gone, and I'll have no one to talk to 'cause I never talked to anyone the way I do with her, and she's gonna forget to call or text 'cause she always forgets to do the things she PROMISED she'd do. And she says she'll visit for Christmas, but by then, she'll only be interested in college stuff and she won't wanna talk to me, and it's just not fair! And I don't care that I'm acting like a kid 'cause she's the only one who ever gets me and know she's just gonna leave. I'm vaguely aware of the quick glances I get from the people who pass by, and I begin to slow my meltdown into a couple sniffles. I dab at my tears with my the long cuffs of my jacket. My sister got it for me during a freak rainstorm. Oh crap, Jane's probably worried. What time is it? Oh, if she called mom I'm gonna be dead, but she wouldn't do that unless she was reeaaallly worried. How long have I been gone? I get off of the pavement and flip my hood up in vain attempt to hide the fact I've been crying as I rush back down the street, hoping Jane will just think my face is red from all the running.


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  • August 21, 2014 - 7:56pm (Now Viewing)

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