Another draft of another story from my life!
It is a warm summer day, and I am frowning. Let me restate that: it is an unusually beautiful day, one we almost never get (as we live on a mountain in Oregon), and I am wasting it by pouting.
“Why do Didi and Bhaiya have to leave tomorrow?” I whine to my mom again. My mom looks at me.
It is a warm summer day, and I am frowning. Let me restate that: it is an unusually beautiful day, one we almost never get (as we live on a mountain in Oregon), and I am wasting it by pouting.
“Why do Didi and Bhaiya have to leave tomorrow?” I whine to my mom again. My mom looks at me.
“Megha...” she warns me. I notice that she seems a little tired--no wonder, as she’s planned a huge party! So, I heave a huge fake sigh, trying not to smile.
“Ok, ok,” I say, failing to sound annoyed. I check my watch. “Mom!” I say, my smile turning mischievous. “They’re not up yet and we have to go in one hour!” Mom sighs this time.
“Go wake them up, and tell them no delays!” I groan, my smile gone. Why do I always have to wake them up? I think while I skip and jump up the stairs.
“Didi!” I say, pushing my sister’s door open, “Wake up! You have one hour to get ready!” My sister completely ignores me. I run to her bed, then gently shake her. “Didi....You have to got to get up unless you want us to be late for the party.” She turns to look at me.
“Go away...” She says, sounding like her regular tired morning self. I shake her again. “Five more minutes...”
“Mom said no delays,” I answer. She groans.
“Get out of my room,” I frown at the demand, cringing in anticipation for what was coming next.
“But Didi, you have to wake up. Otherwise we’re going to be late for the party.”
“Go away Megha.”
“No.”
“Ok, ok,” I say, failing to sound annoyed. I check my watch. “Mom!” I say, my smile turning mischievous. “They’re not up yet and we have to go in one hour!” Mom sighs this time.
“Go wake them up, and tell them no delays!” I groan, my smile gone. Why do I always have to wake them up? I think while I skip and jump up the stairs.
“Didi!” I say, pushing my sister’s door open, “Wake up! You have one hour to get ready!” My sister completely ignores me. I run to her bed, then gently shake her. “Didi....You have to got to get up unless you want us to be late for the party.” She turns to look at me.
“Go away...” She says, sounding like her regular tired morning self. I shake her again. “Five more minutes...”
“Mom said no delays,” I answer. She groans.
“Get out of my room,” I frown at the demand, cringing in anticipation for what was coming next.
“But Didi, you have to wake up. Otherwise we’re going to be late for the party.”
“Go away Megha.”
“No.”
“MEGHA! GET OUT OF MY ROOM!” My sister shouts (loud enough that it was still considered a shout, but soft enough that my parents couldn’t hear her).
“Ok, ok, fine! But mom won’t be happy.” My sister goes back to sleep. I sigh, once again, and then, with one last glance at her, get out. “Bhaiya!” I say, trading my sister’s green- and mirror-wall for my brother’s dark magenta walls and small attic. I gently shake him.
“Stop Megha. Get out. Let me sleep.” I shake my head.
“Bhaiya...Mom said to get up, otherwise she’s going to come up here, and you know what happens when Mom comes up here...” I look at my brother, hoping (while knowing it won’t happen) that he will get up because of this last threat. He turns to me.
“Megha. Get out. Now.”
“Ok, fine, I’ll get out, but mom will yell at you if you make us late.” I leave the door open, knowing (and receiving) a command in return (my brother telling me to close the door). I run down the stairs after closing the door to deliver my report, and then I grab a book and bound to the couch to finish it. By the time my sister finally drags herself out of bed, gets ready, and comes downstairs, I am almost done.
“Morning,” my sister says.
“Hi Didi,” I answer, looking up for a second to wave, then going back to the book. My sister looks at me in amusement, probably thinking about the fact that she was the one who taught me how to read, and now look how much I do it. I look up again, giving her a why-are-you-looking-at-me-like-that look. My sister just smiles.
The next thing I know, we are all bundling into the car to go to the church for my brother’s graduation and my sister’s sweet sixteenth. I am, as always, in the middle of the backseat, sandwiched between my sister and my brother. We are on our way to Shiner Hall, where the party will take place.
We all get out of the car and rush inside to start setting up. With a little help from early arrivers, we soon finish. People from Seattle and California (and Oregon, of course) are coming. The party is really fun, with performances, speeches, plays and songs. I participate, of course. Plus, a lot of my friends are here and it is exciting to listen to all the tributes to my siblings. I am sort of in the middle of things, as I am the sister of both the special, important people of this day. In the back of my mind, however, this party is also a sad reminder that one day, I will be an only child.
That moment came too fast, and I was sorry to see it go. My brother and sister left for a camp the next day, and I next saw them when they came back right before my mom and dad dropped my brother off in Boston, to college. My sister and I were left at home for a week before my parents came back, and the next time I saw my brother was in a few months. My sister joined him almost exactly one year later.
My life would never be the same again, as I now have no one to yell at me as I wake them up, no one to teach me to play card games, or destroy me in board games like Risk or Monopoly, no one for me to play with (parents don’t count), or annoy when they’re doing work, or reading secretly in their rooms (my sister) or when they’re surfing Wikipedia to look for interesting tidbits (my brother).
“Ok, ok, fine! But mom won’t be happy.” My sister goes back to sleep. I sigh, once again, and then, with one last glance at her, get out. “Bhaiya!” I say, trading my sister’s green- and mirror-wall for my brother’s dark magenta walls and small attic. I gently shake him.
“Stop Megha. Get out. Let me sleep.” I shake my head.
“Bhaiya...Mom said to get up, otherwise she’s going to come up here, and you know what happens when Mom comes up here...” I look at my brother, hoping (while knowing it won’t happen) that he will get up because of this last threat. He turns to me.
“Megha. Get out. Now.”
“Ok, fine, I’ll get out, but mom will yell at you if you make us late.” I leave the door open, knowing (and receiving) a command in return (my brother telling me to close the door). I run down the stairs after closing the door to deliver my report, and then I grab a book and bound to the couch to finish it. By the time my sister finally drags herself out of bed, gets ready, and comes downstairs, I am almost done.
“Morning,” my sister says.
“Hi Didi,” I answer, looking up for a second to wave, then going back to the book. My sister looks at me in amusement, probably thinking about the fact that she was the one who taught me how to read, and now look how much I do it. I look up again, giving her a why-are-you-looking-at-me-like-that look. My sister just smiles.
The next thing I know, we are all bundling into the car to go to the church for my brother’s graduation and my sister’s sweet sixteenth. I am, as always, in the middle of the backseat, sandwiched between my sister and my brother. We are on our way to Shiner Hall, where the party will take place.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
We all get out of the car and rush inside to start setting up. With a little help from early arrivers, we soon finish. People from Seattle and California (and Oregon, of course) are coming. The party is really fun, with performances, speeches, plays and songs. I participate, of course. Plus, a lot of my friends are here and it is exciting to listen to all the tributes to my siblings. I am sort of in the middle of things, as I am the sister of both the special, important people of this day. In the back of my mind, however, this party is also a sad reminder that one day, I will be an only child.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
That moment came too fast, and I was sorry to see it go. My brother and sister left for a camp the next day, and I next saw them when they came back right before my mom and dad dropped my brother off in Boston, to college. My sister and I were left at home for a week before my parents came back, and the next time I saw my brother was in a few months. My sister joined him almost exactly one year later.
My life would never be the same again, as I now have no one to yell at me as I wake them up, no one to teach me to play card games, or destroy me in board games like Risk or Monopoly, no one for me to play with (parents don’t count), or annoy when they’re doing work, or reading secretly in their rooms (my sister) or when they’re surfing Wikipedia to look for interesting tidbits (my brother).
However, I am happy that they are having such an amazing time, and, after all, I can steal all their books now (until they come home again)!
As your older sister, I am incredibly touched by this incredibly well written piece. Super proud of you--I'll be asking for tips on how to write soon, yeah?
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