
Everyone always said the relationship between sisters gets better when you’re older. That all the fighting and bickering stops once they move out and that you will actually miss them and talk more.
My sister is older. So my whole childhood was spent being hit by her, emotionally abused, and as she was older and therefor apparently cooler, she would steal my friends. When my friends did come around she would try and embarrass me, or them. She once poured water over one of my friends, and didn’t stop there. She then poured flour over them. In their hair and everything. How pathetic.
She moved out at 21, and I moved out a few months later at 19. We don’t speak much, and when we do, it’s just sarcastic comments from her to try and bring me down.
We went to see a tribute band last night, there were 19 of us in total. She ignored me the whole evening, and sat with her arms folded looking miserable. She’s always been like that.
I used to be quiet, because my family always interrupt me when I speak. So I gave up. So I came back home loud and confident, and within a day, I’m back to my quiet insecure self. Wait a minute, when did you start talking?! You normally sit there quiet said my dads friend. So it was a noticeable difference. My mum wasn’t in the room at the time, she came in later. He asked me a question, I started replying and she spoke over me and answered. THAT is exactly why I used to be quiet I said above her. I can’t get a bloody word in usually
Because I used to be quiet, when I spoke people didnt hear me so I would get ignored. I was used to this. Last night I asked my sister a question across the table. She ignored me. On purpose. I don’t think she heard you, Sweetie said the lady next to me. My sister looked at her, smirked, said I did and then went back to ignoring me. She’s just ignorant I replied.
‘Angels’ was sang, the singler got everyone in the room to stand up, hold hands and sway. Everyone but my sister got up. She then escaped to the ladies. On her return I grabbed her to join in. Instead of holding hands she made fists. I was holding her fist. Like she was a stubborn little child crossing the road. I tried to make it hands, she refused, so for the rest of the so I held her wrist.
I spoke about her wedding to the lady next to me. I’m the head bridesmaid, and I know nothing about the wedding as my sister doesn’t speak to me. I’m meant to organise her a hen party, when I know none of her friends or anything which is happening. I can’t do it. Whatever I do will be wrong. The tears started rolling down my face. I looked at my sister. She smiled. Not in a nice way, more in a ‘I’m happy you’re crying’ way. So up I got to dance, with tears pouring down my face.
When she left, she said bye to the lady next to me, ignored me, and went. Cue more tears and everyone staring at me. It is a boy? one asked, I shook my head unable to talk. Even my Dad came over to see what was the matter. I must have been a right state if he actually bothered to get off his chair. My mums input was not allowing me anymore wine. In my family you’re not allowed to cry, and I was. Therefore the alcohol was to blame of course. But it wasn’t. I’m sober and still crying now. I returned home with make up all down my face, sobbing in the back of a mini bus.
Three hours with my sister and she broke me. I want to go back to London now. One day here was enough. I don’t think I will ever feel the Christmas spirit this year