Kelly was always the perfect one. She appeared to have all the attributes of a saint: a great Christian life, grades any parent would be proud of, she knew just what to say to adults, and worst of all she never made a mistake. What parent would not love a daughter like that, and I always felt that mine loved her more then me. I don’t know, still to this day, whether my hatred for her blossomed from jealousy or frustration. Whatever the case, our fighting had reached a new plateau. Both teenagers, our sibling rivalry had mutated from fighting over toys to things like clothes, the phone, and trying to get the other in trouble.
A common day in the Frasz house would include petty arguments over borrowing clothes, touching the other’s things, or just being annoying. But, on occasion, all hell would break loose and those were the times that we were left alone. These moments were dangerous and I don’t know how my sister and I both survived them. I, myself, was often tempted with reenacting Cain and Abel on my sister. The winner was often the one more enraged or with the better weapon, as it has been in battle for centuries.
This was the “perfect child”? Everyone thought so highly of Kelly; I knew better. I knew how she really was. T
. . .
She had returned home from college with news that she was pregnant and that her boyfriend had proposed to her. I thought too highly of her; I could not believe that my sister would ever come home with news like that. She took care of us and loved us, but with her extremely stressful job and no husband around to help her, she continuously got on our nerves. I let everything about her bother me, her attitude, her demeanor, even her looks. Our once dangerous relationship was now precious to us both. She trusted me with the secret and asked for advice on how to break the news to my parents. We are fortunate to have each other, to be there for each other when we need someone. This may sound like a beautiful, happy-ending story, and I guess it is. This is not to say that we never fight, because we do still have our differences. She is such a beautiful person inside and out, that all those years of putting her down and hating her seem so wasted. Later that night we looked through wedding magazines and she asked me to be her maid of honor. The more time we spent together the higher I thought of my sister. I even found myself at times forgetting her flaws and thinking highly of her, which made me hate her even more. The things that were diverse we saw as wrong or bad and just another thing to tease each other about.
Approximate Word count =
954
Approximate Pages =
4 (250 words per page double spaced)
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