I’d always wanted a younger sister.
I still remember I used to have an imaginary sister I used to play with when I was 4 years old!
And finally, finally after waiting for three looong years (time goes slower when you’re a kid), I got my wish when I was seven. I got my sister.
I remember when mama brought her into the house, she was sleeping. Mama laid her on the bed and left the room and I was all alone with my baby sister. She was so small! So small and so pink! She looked so delicate, and she was too! I couldn’t help but kiss her, ever so gently, on her forehead. Just a touch of my lips, that was it. But her forehead turned red, like a bruise! I got so scared! I thought I had hurt her. And I panicked and when mama came I denied everything.
I didn’t do anything mama, not a thing!
I didn’t even touch her!
Mama laughed and said it’s ok to kiss her, just that she’s delicate, so be careful!
I loved her so much! I was so damn proud of her! And she admired me so much! I was her chechi (elder sister) whom she loved and adored.
I left when she was 10. But even when she turned 15, she still loved me and valued my take on things. She loved hearing me talk about college and work and all. She used to call me and tell me she missed me.
But all that’s changed.
Now, she’s this self-assured female, 17 going on 25, who has no idea where she’s going, but makes sure it’s wherever she not supposed to go!
Now I’ve been shortened to chech, (when she’s in a good mood).
The look of adoration has been replaced with scorn.
The family is an embarrassment to her.
She only wants her ‘friends’.
I know it’s cos she’s at that age.
I know she doesn’t mean it.
I know she still cares.
But it just hurts so damn much when she says “I hate you”.