The moment you come into the world you see the people that you will remember the most throughout your life. Those people would be there for you more than anyone else. You will fight with them, you will argue with them, you will cry with them, and you will love them. They will cause you pain and take all other pains away. They are your family, they surround you on that special day. They have just met you but they already love you so deeply. It takes a baby two seconds to grasp what they first see, within those two seconds you decide something very important, you are theirs and they are yours. No one can take them away from you. When I first opened my eyes, I saw my sister.

My sisters name is Mia, its pronounced me-ah, she named me and I remember waking up to the sound of her voice. She was singing, I couldn’t tell what she was saying exactly all I knew was that I never wanted her to stop. She smiled at me and the beautiful sound stopped, I got so upset that I began to cry. She started to sing again and I was stunned. How could I be so attached to someone I had only made eye contact with. She held me like I was the whole world wrapped in a pink and white blanket. I vowed that day, even though no one could hear me, that I would never let anyone hurt her or separate us. We were sisters forever bound by two very strong hearts.

Well good things come in very short packages. The friendly sisterhood of it all began and ended within my first 5 years of life. Then she hit teenage years and I thought messing with her was way more fun than anything else on the planet. I found that I needed to know absolutely everything that went on in her life. Boys, drama, love, hurt, grades, absolutely everything. However, older sisters seem to love to yell one single line that hurts beyond comparison “Get out of my life!”.

Things stayed very love-hate for a very long time and it wasn’t until I turned 14 that we truly became sisters. Not the siblings who yell and fight but the loving sisters who share and comfort one another. For a long time I believed my sister to be perfect, her long blonde hair, bright crystal blue eyes, tan skin, and flawless body. I envied her, for everything. She had the most wonderful boyfriend, she was the most popular girl at school, she was it. The girl to be, and I was her sister. The ugly sister with the red hair and freckles, blue eyes, and ghostly white skin. I was a humiliation to her. Nothing to be seen out in public with.

I soon learned she was not so perfect. She was sick actually, she dealt with her stress and pain in a very different way. She stopped eating, socializing, and talking. She forced herself to throw up many times a day, my big sister was sick. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She was supposed to be the one looking out for me, but things don’t always turn out as they seem and I began tracking in a notebook everything she ate. Id stay up late and listen to make sure she wasn’t throwing up. Id listen to her cry and cry all night. Unable to get up and be there for her because it never helped her to see me cry. So i’d wait until I had control of myself, and i’d go and sit there not making a sound. When i couldn’t handle myself anymore I would say I needed a glass of water or I had to use the restroom. I really went to my room and cried.

Through all this I thought maybe this will strengthen all of us, the whole family, bringing us closer together. Through endless nights of carrying her to bed and cleaning her face and hair when she accidentally got some on herself. The countless times I would take a hit or two when she said it was all my fault and needed to smack someone around. The intense hours when her body levels would drop too low and I would need to rush her to the hospital. The heartbreaking moment when we decided to send her away. All this did was but a stronger barrier between an already broken home.

I gave up after things became too horrifying for me to handle. I began to cut myself to take away the pain, it felt good. I felt as though whenever my sister cried it was my fault, and this was my punishment. Anytime she did anything that hurt her, I would hurt me. We had to be equal, it was only fair we were in this together after all. I felt connected to her pain. As if anything she felt, I felt. I didn’t want my parents thinking I was hurting because they didn’t need anything else to worry about. People always say that life isn’t perfect...well no one expects it to be. We have to make the best out of every situation. Remain strong in the heart, and you’ll never lose control of whats most important.