I was a mean sister. I did do a really good job on her homework, though.

Writing class prompt: write about a time you broke a rule or lied to a family member. I do believe I cover both. 


I stared at her perfectly organized closet barely able to contain my excitement expelling from my mouth and body in the form of a high pitched teenage girl scream complete with flailing hands and kicking feet. Sure, I would miss my big sister with whom I shared a wall, and, unfortunately, a bathroom. But, after waiting 14 long years to borrow a shirt or sweater without having to do her homework first, as my parents drove her to the airport, my time to cut the bottoms of her too- long- for- me jeans had finally arrived. I haphazardly threw my own less fashionable clothes on her floor just the way she would hate it. Then, I turned on MTV, the only channel I was not allowed to watch. With Britney bouncing in the background, I put on her underwear. I didn’t even care that she had only left the itchy ones, or that my bum was a size or two, maybe three, too big. Most of 1998’s Abercrombie& Fitch, Old Navy, and Gap Fall/Winter line hung before me. Its separation from her slender frame and care was confusing for them. Perhaps, it was just my greed talking, but, I’m almost positive I heard them begging to be carelessly altered, and partially ruined, throughout the next several months while she studied abroad at the beach, just so they knew they weren’t forgotten. I obliged the non-request of each item, particularly the sexiest of which I was most certainly not permitted to think about even wanting to wear. They could always be hidden underneath her sweaters to be later discarded at the bottom of my locker before arriving at Freshman homeroom. Thus, I began squeezing into each and every one of her tank tops, purposefully discarding them in rumpled up balls underneath her bed, which, coincidentally, requires more effort than using a hanger. It was a wild, subpar- fashion rumpus interrupted only by the rumbling of my belly. I satisfied it through a borderline binge her favorite snacks, air pop popcorn with a side of pretzels and cream cheese. I ate them on her bed, not being careful about crumbs, while I called my best friend on her room phone that I was most definitely never to touch, to talk about all of my new outfits and recently acquired knowledge of the mascara habits Miss Spears. To my credit, I only hemmed three pairs of her pants, mostly because the other ones didn’t button.

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