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An abecedarius about my sister Sarah, who was two years older than I.

Just Us

Always the big sister, you held a kind of elegant air, of already

Been there, already played that game, won the prize, or

Carried the burden. You had broken the bone, had your tonsils out,

Developed the need for glasses, and when you were old enough,

Eventually switched to contacts. No matter that I had lasik later, that

Future wasn't to be yours. The one with the answers, you were the

Golden sage, with thick luscious blonde locks, compared to my own thinner

Hair, which I keep long to hide its fine nature. With green eyes and an

Intense expression, you always were the one to speak for me, to

Judge me, and ultimately, to condemn me. I was often on your bad side, you wanted to

Kick me for some of the things I said. Words were my weapon of choice, because you had fists.

Listening to you complain was kind of a chore, at times, but what were sisters for, if not

Making each other feel better when things were rough?

Not always, though, we were great at finding our insecurities and exploiting them, even

Opening each other's diaries and digesting the secrets inside, the usual

Punishment being a pummeling from you, though you got sneakier over the years,

Quietly boobytrapping your room so that loud music would play the minute I opened the door,

Resorting to tactics like making fake diaries for me to find, and more. I did the

Same, because we were siblings, and it was our mission, no, our duty to

Tease and taunt each other mercilessly. That is the meaning of

Unconditional love, I've learned. To love without worry that a

Vengeful spirit will remain to tear at the heart. Instead, no amount of fighting could

Warrant a total split, nothing but death could break us apart, and it did. I know

Exactly what I would say to you if you were still around. I would say I'm sorry, for all the hurtful

Years we spent, fighting and bringing out tears in each other, a fact that had

Zero to do with love, because underneath it all, we were sisters, and that was most important of

All. I remember fondly all the good times, not the

Bad, well at least, not as much. I regret a lot, but let's not talk of it, instead I would

Care to focus on the fun. Every year as teens, we celebrated Halloween by having

Drag parties. The concept is simple: wear clothes of the opposite gender, and act like

Eccentric little idiots, playing loud music at all hours, to bother the neighbors and our ears,

For fun, and of course, for the sheer silliness of it all. It was the 1990s, after all, and

Guys had not yet embraced their inner Fem; there were no man buns yet.

However, it only took some free beer and maybe a few shots of

Intoxicating drinks concocted in our kitchen, to release their secret selves;

Jokes aside, we all have them. You in your long fake beard and me in a trench coat, Freddy

Krueger style hat, and some brown creme makeup stubble. I still have pictures to prove it, and

Let's not forget the guys, great spirits all of them, with the help of some other spirits: Captain

Morgan, Jack Daniels and Jim Beam, with the obligatory orange juice or generic cola mixers,

Nerds that we were at the time. But we had fun, and were young, we'll never get that back.

On the other hand, I've replaced novelty with maturity, and that kind of drinking is in the

Past, with many other things, I know. Would I trade these days for those, to feel that

Quaint and subtle spark of youth, full of wonder and excitement, and no actual experience?

Rather than go back, I'd bring you forward, if I could, and know you as an adult, no fighting, just

Sisters who finally got along. It's funny, the only time that you were totally

Tolerable was when you were drinking, or at least, were in an amicable mood. I never

Understood that, why you were so apologetic when you were drunk, but never the

Victim, as you were the rest of the time. Of course, I thought I was the one who was

Worthless, when you were around, but in truth, you felt the same way. Your

Existence was cut short, though, and we will never get to know what

You would be like, or whether you would cry when you found out that

Xena, Warrior Princess, also died, at the end. Perhaps you are in the same

Zone, somewhere between two worlds, listening and hearing every word I say

And write. We watched that show endlessly, with our mom, before the term

Binge watching was invented. They say in the show that when you think of the dead, the dead

Can hear you. So maybe now you are with me, too, and I'm not really alone. I

Don't know what I believe, because we weren't raised with religion, and both were into Wicca,

Except the whole weird part about sending love and light to a dead bird found in the park. That

Freaky kind of stuff was a little extreme for either of us, I think, although we did the role-playing

Game called Vampire, The Masquerade, also kind of a strange crowd of, well,

Humans, who thought they were vampires, and sat around at Denny's drinking coffee while

Insisting that they had to bite each other on the wrist in order to

Join the club. I thought it was just a game, but no, they took it very seriously,

Keeping in character like it meant life or death. We did a lot with our imaginations,

Like dressing up at the Renaissance festival, or performing the Rocky Horror Picture Show, the

Movie version, of course, because that was the tradition. After Halloween, your

Next favorite holiday was Christmas, and I'd have to agree. I still remember the first time we

Opened our stockings on Christmas morning, after you woke me up at 5am. Our parents had

Placed our stockings under our bed, because we had no chimney, and I would

Relish those moments of pure joy, opening our little gifts to find treasures and

Sweets, toys and other surprises like miniature lipsticks and nail polish, or even

Transformers. It didn't matter that we were girls, we played with it all, because our

Umbrella of fun was open to everything, just about, from digging mud holes to catching

Various lizards and frogs, or dressing up as mentioned before, because we were kids. That's

Why I miss you the most, I think, because you represent my cherished childhood, my past, my

Experience as a person, because without you, I wouldn't be me. That is the truest tragedy, that

Youth we will never get back, and you, who I'll also never see again, that amazingly

Zestful person that you were, is now asleep, forever, but in my heart, you'll always be with me.

© Copyright 2019 Renee Benefield (celestarenee at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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