Everyday I live my life as others do, with a routine. I run back and forth, and in and out of the house. Often times I see the three family members that live with me, less than I see my friends during the school day. We all have hectic schedules, which at times leave us tumbling in the door of the house for the first time during the late evening, after leaving the house in the early morning. The person I see least unfortunately, is my sister. Since I graduated from middle school we see each other less and less. She has her endless list of things to do, and I have mine. There are days that I speak to her for a mere total of thirty minutes. It’s something I’ve seemed to lose track of, something that obliviously affects our relationship. We have a strong sisterhood despite this and that is what I’m trying to portray in this piece. A sense of distance that still has a very palpable sense of closeness.
Now, our lives have gotten to the point that there is literally always something to do. Now that attachment has faded a bit, since I’ve been back home for a while now. To an extent though, I feel as if some of that closeness lingers. We are close, we fight less. My sister is someone who has shared almost my entire life with. The beauty lies in the memories we share. Intricate and somewhat delicate, our sisterhood has a strength to it. I know that no matter what, she will always be there to help when I have a downfall. Knows not only the beautiful but also the grim. In many ways the sister is the
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