siblings

Siblings are the only enemy you can't live without.

My Sister's Gifts
With only two days until my final ceremony at Claredon Hill Middle School, Christine finally found time to go graduation dress-shopping with me. It was the first sunny afternoon after two weeks of gray skies and endless drizzling, so North Michigan Avenue was packed with pedestrians. We had just walked out of Saks Fifth Avenue, where Christine had asked the woman to put a pale blue dress on hold for me.
By Tina Gao6 years ago in Families
My Sister is a Drug Dealer
With only two days until my final ceremony at Claredon Hill Middle School, Christine finally found time to go graduation dress-shopping with me. It was the first sunny afternoon after two weeks of gray skies and endless drizzling, so North Michigan Avenue was packed with pedestrians. We had just walked out of Saks Fifth Avenue, where Christine had asked the woman to put a pale blue dress on hold for me.
By Tina Gao6 years ago in Families
Dear George
Chrissy jumped in response to a loud thud. The noise was Nate hitting a brick wall, literally; a wall that needed to be removed to allow access for Bucky’s wheelchair. It was certainly not like the other walls, that readily crumbled under the blows of the sledge hammer. Nate and Sonny were puzzled as to why a wall would be bricked in. Even more curious was a small wooden window in the midst of the brick. When the men cut through the wood an undersized room was revealed. The siblings stood in silence for a moment, baffled at what was before their eyes. Behind the wall was a sparse room containing a desk, a chair, and an old Kerosene lamp.
By Christine Kuehn6 years ago in Families
Missing
“Shannon, just admit that you took it!” Sharon screamed at her twin. They were just graduating high school when their dad pulled out the little black notebook of poems that their mom had written.
By Kristy M Sorrow6 years ago in Families
The Switch
The Switch Bill I had the best life growing up. I felt loved and supported and I found everything as easy as it could be. My first girlfriend was in high school and we only broke up because of how far apart our colleges were. We drifted apart over the 4 years as we studied in different places and when we came back together afterwards it was as friends. We were just not looking for the same things. I wanted to live here back where I grew up and sell real estate and she wanted to move to the west coast and help save the planet.
By Julie Warring Amos6 years ago in Families
My Small Black Notebook
Sir Elliot Winthorp III wrote all of his poems in a small black notebook. It was an old and romantic habit that he had developed as a young man when he was studying law at Cambridge. He liked the texture of the rigid marbled cover against his fingertips; and the way the pages absorbed the ink from his Montblanc Meisterstück Hommage á W.A Mozart platinum-coated fountainpen adorned with a hand-crafted 18K solid gold nib. The stark juxtaposition between the cheap notebook and the luxurious masterpiece fountainpen gave Elliot a giddy feeling of insouciant adventure – which, in turn, he was certain, helped him write his beloved poetry.
By MICHAEL PAARUP6 years ago in Families
Gooseberry Smile by TERRI MCCORMICK
There are two types of people in this world: those who feed their animals first before they themselves sit down to eat, and those who don’t. Elodie Carter’s brother, Amos, was the latter.
By Terri McCormick6 years ago in Families
My Sister's Book
Before she died, my sister gave me a Little Black Book. It was about the size of a match box, and it fit perfectly in my pocket. It was a very special gift, to her silly younger brother, filled with the meditations of her life; brief thoughts from a mind that had endured many struggles.
By R6 years ago in Families
Cheers
Mom and “Dick” finally went to bed. Bobbie and I were relived. She hated to see us bonding so we spent a lot of time apart so as not to raise her suspicion of an alliance. She was right to be suspicious because there was definitely an alliance. We were just more adept at hiding our conspiring. I exited my room and turned on the hall light. It was all the glow I needed to carry out the mission. I pressed my back up against the wall and stood in 2nd position. Toes pointed out at my sides carefully avoiding the floor creeks. Expertly navigating the floor I had been treading across for all of my 14 years. I reached my hand into Bobby’s bedroom. He slipped a cool cylinder into my hand. I placed it into my hoodie pouch I reached in again for the second can. Pepsi. Bobby’s job was to procure Dick’s precious Pepsi. He completed the mission. Now it was my turn. Slowly and carefully I slid my feet along the wall. Nary a squeak could be heard. Success! The next hurdle stood before me. I had to make a silent catlike leap from where I stood in living room to the kitchen. This bit of floor was the most compromised. It was filled with noisy floor boards. No matter where you would step the floor would groan. These weren’t the squeaks of a typical loose floor board. The sounds that emanated from this portion of floor were deep, low and long. Something akin to the floor board sounds they amplify in horror films for added suspense. This was real life for me. The suspense was thick in the air. If my foot touched the floor even a half inch too soon the house would groan right above my mothers sleeping head. I couldn’t risk rousing her. I had to make the leap. No more hesitation. I propelled myself forward. Perfect landing. I would have scored a 10 if anyone was there to see it. I pulled the pilfered cans from my pocket and placed them on the counter. I used my sleeve to muffle the sound of me opening the cans. Slowly i released the tab. The sound of air escaping the can as quite as it was sounded like a foghorn as it sliced through the silence of the kitchen. I brought the can to my lips and chugged. Once I was a quarter of the was finished I opened the other can with the same precision and chugged that one a quarter of the way as well. I felt an enormous belch developing in my stomach. The desire to let it out and wake the whole house was overwhelming. I smirked at myself and stifled it down. I must complete the mission. I hoisted myself up on the counter in expert fashion. I gripped the top of the fridge to steady myself. Standing on the counter I had to lean over the fridge. I gently pushed the decorative pitcher blocking the cupboard doors. I was careful not to push it too far and break it blowing my cover in the process. With a delicate tug I opened the cupboard door. Almost there. I’m fairly sure I heard the sounds of 100 angels singing as a divine light shone down on the prize, whisky. Quickly in swiped the whisky, contorted my body in some unnamed yoga pose and topped off our Pepsi’s. Back in the cupboard the whisky went. I didn’t worry about topping it off. Mom would blame Dick and Dick would blame mom and neither would mention it because they both held value in hiding their perspective drinking problems. This neurosis proved beneficial to Bobby and I time and again. The journey back to the bedrooms was even more delicate than the way to the kitchen. Performing ninja moves while holding not one but two open intoxicants would be a test of my skills. I took a big gulp off the top of each to help prevent spills. I felt the warmth of the whisky coat my throat. The taste was terrible but I liked the feeling. Liquid courage. One giant leap and I was in the hall again. I followed my footsteps from before and made my way into Bobby’s room. Rather than stepping onto the floor I climbed up the side of the bed. We sat side by side against the wall. I passed him his drink. We clinked cans and and swallowed the brown liquid down. He pressed play on the vcr and Pink Floyd came on.
By AJ Brown6 years ago in Families
Criss, cross, applesauce
I stood in the warm yellow kitchen wearing my Cinderella nightgown, looking at the harvest gold refrigerator in front of me. The door was ajar. My skin was covered in goosebumps. It was cool in front of the fridge in just my jammies but the anticipation strumming at my anxiety was the real culprit. Bobby was hunched down rifling through the shelves. “Got it!” He exclaimed and hid his hands behind his back concealing whatever it was that he “got”. “Eyes closed!” He demanded. I squeezed my eyes tight. “Ready?” He asked. He was standing behind me then. I nodded my blond head vigorously. “Kriss cross” he made and X across my back with his finger. “Remember if you shiver I get to punch you.” He said this with the authority only an older sibling can muster. He just wanted permission to punch me. “Just do it Bobby!” I whined impatiently. I was testing my resolve. I wanted to be tougher than him. Though I was only seven I refused to shiver. This was basically a battle of dominance and I would prevail. “Applesauce” he continued trailing his fingers gently down my back. It definitely tickled but I would not break. I sucked in a breath fully aware of what was next. “Spiders crawling up your back” he said while tickling my back in an upward direction. This was torture. He knew my weakness. Spiders were the worst. He intentionally took longer with this step. I wouldn’t let him have this win. I couldn’t. “Cool breeze” he blew on my neck. I felt the hairs on my neck stand on end but I wouldn’t break. “Tight squeeze” he squeezed my sides and I almost doubled over. It tickled so much! One final step. It was an easy one. “Crack and egg on your head” he was laughing as he said it. Then he hit the top of my head. Suddenly there was something dripping down. I put my hands to my head. It was slimy. He cracked a real egg on my head! I busted out laughing and Bobbie did the same. The egg slipped off of my head and landed on the kitchen floor with a splat. I laughed harder. Moms clean floor was covered in raw egg. I was covered in raw egg. It was absurd and hilarious. Bobby punched me in the arm. “You lose!” It really smarted but I just laughed harder. Mom came into the room. There shouldn’t be that much laughter. Her spidery senses must have been alerted to our joy. There should be no joy in the house...according to mom. “What the fuck are you doing?!?” She shrieked. Somehow her screaming became the funniest thing of all. Bobby and I laughed harder unable to answer. Joanie!?! What the fuck is all over you.!?!? I looked at her stupidly egg literally on my face. “Egg.” I replied and laughed some more. Mom started smacking us then indiscriminately. I don’t know who got it first or worst. I didn’t care because getting slapped was funny too because mom had egg on her from Hitting me. I bobbed and weaved, she slapped and we laughed. I may have gotten and egg cracked on my head and punched in the arm but I still won that day.
By AJ Brown6 years ago in Families
My Big Brother Reggie
My big brother Reggie’s got his shit together. He quotes Pema Chödrön almost incessantly. He puts chia seeds in his protein shakes. He’s brewing his own beer. I think he posted a gym selfie the other day.
By Benni Perkins6 years ago in Families
Day Dreams
Dear readers, this is the diary story of how the “Small Black Notebook “changed my life! My name is Sherelle and I grew up as an identical twin. I am currently 22 yrs of age, Janelle & I grew up in a small town name Callmanor.
By Sherelle Thomas 6 years ago in Families