“Sisterly Love”
A micro memoir by Emily Huynh (9).
The tears ran down my cheeks like they were flowing down a steady stream. My hands clenched around the fabric of my shirt, playing with my fingers, playing with anything to calm myself from the exasperating situation. Standing in front of my dad and mom, feeling belittled by their frustrated stares, I couldn’t look at anything but the floor.
Later, glancing toward my sister, she wasn’t doing any better, tears glistened around her eyes, threatening to drop. She had evidently started a small quarrel between us, a childish one, but as an 8-year-old, it was a big deal. The fight led to my dad scolding both of us for not loving each other enough. He always mentioned that we should care and look out for each other, but in moments like these, hearing that phrase just sounded annoying. Many of our fights ended like this, getting yelled at while facing their disappointed, upset faces which made us feel ten times worse.
Our fight started with my back to the door, I was folding clothes and unaware of my sister sneaking around the corner waiting to scare me. She successfully snuck in and managed to get behind me and timing it perfectly, she scared me. Hands reaching out, wrapping them around me, I cried and yelled with panic in my voice. Squirming around in her hold, she let me down, laughing. I quickly turned around and had my hand ready to hit her on the arm. The moment my harsh slap came in contact with her arm, I regretted it because I knew that it would be the start of something bad. She quickly hit me back, and then I hit, we went back and forth, challenging each other to see who would give in first. My sister being at a huge advantage of being years older had more strength so I gave in.
“You didn’t have to do that!” I said, tears starting to fall. She glared back at me.
My parents came rushing in after hearing the commotion, “What’s going on.”
“She scared me and then started to hit me!” I yelled.
My sister looks back at me and she accusingly says, “You hit me first!”
Glaring back at my sister, “You scared me first!”
With a big huff, I turn to my parents and say, “She always does this, when you guys aren’t home, she scares me and it’s so annoying!”
“Well if you are playing with her—”
“We’re not playing!” I cut my mom off, “we’re never playing, but she does this!”
“Why can’t you guys treat each other nicely?” my dad asked, “is it that too difficult?”
My mom adds on and says, “There’s only the two of you, be grateful you have each other. When you guys grow up you guys will regret it.”
“You guys just don’t get it! She’s too mean to me, I try to do nice things but then she just messes it all–”
My mom cuts me off, “Treat each other better, there’s no one that will know you better than your sister.”
I gave up trying to argue with them, they just didn’t get it. I tried being nice, but it always ends with her playing too roughly. I really wanted for her to become a kinder, caring sister, was that too much to ask?
Looking back, my sister also wanted to have a nice relationship with me, she played rough and that was her style in showing love. Me being the opposite, we always clashed with each other, but as we both matured, we both changed to being someone better.