Friday, May 16, 2014

Sister

There are somethings that never change. Just staring up at the stars, that never changed for that girl. No matter how hard she squinted at them , the artificial stars stuck on top of her sister's bedroom ceiling never changed. Sometimes she would remove her glasses and looked at them. She could then never make out the difference between the stars and the spaceships. They stopped being stars then. They became blobs of light. Shiny, slimy greenish light, but light that lulled her to sleep as she held on tightly to her elder sister, willing the fan to switch on to provide some solace from the sweltering heat.
Sleep never came easily to her. It was something that slowly prodded and pulled her into after 10 billion sheep had been counted, monsters had been destroyed, televisions in her switched off, all very slowly. She had to first punctuate her thoughts before she submitted them and attempted to clear her mind.
Sometimes when she couldn't sleep at all she would think of how she and her sister had stuck those stars up there. They were scared, of toppling off and falling like a real life 'Loonytune', only one with real broken bones. But when their parents told them not to do it, well their rebellious minds decided exactly the opposite. They grabbed a table, piled four on top of it kept a pillow on top of the fourth chair and used a long roll of paper to stick on the ones they still couldn't reach. The girl, being shorter was assigned with the job of holding onto the precariously wobbling chair and handing the stickers to her sister. She still laughed when she remembered the ridiculous expressions on the face of her sister's parents and the surprise on those of her own to see the previously plain ceiling transformed into a night sky. They never heard about the table and 4 chairs on top of each other, though.
That girl she was always afraid of being left out though. That was why she pretended to be asleep when the rest of them already were. That's why she cried when they all cried. Because of being afraid of being left out.
Sometimes she would dream of not having magic in her, while all others flaunted theirs in front of her. In her sleep she would twitch her hands and grind her teeth trying to create something out nothing, trying to move things that just wouldn't. Sometimes she would cry in her sleep, so frustrated with futility. Sometimes she would feel a cool hand on her forehead, calming her down. Sometimes she would be awake and know that the magic was always there with her, holding her tightly as they both fell into the pit of deep slumber.

1 comment:

  1. Wow I love your writing. It was relatable...this blog is definatly going in my favorite list :)
    PS im commenting because your introduction said that you love comments.
    www.sammyisonline.blogspot.com

    ReplyDelete

Feel free to leave me a comment! I would love them!