STARS
It has been exactly twenty days since my sister had left, or as my mummy had put it, flown to the stars. I wonder if anyone had seen her fly up, but I knew that I could tell my friends what an amazing talent my sister possessed. Although I felt quite cross with her for not sharing her ability, I was proud of her nonetheless.
But what really bothered me was why she hadn't returned yet, and why she hadn't said goodbye to me before leaving. No matter where she went, be it her boyfriend's house or the big school she went to, my sister would never leave without planting a kiss on my head or cheek (which I immediately wiped off) and tickling my tummy (which I always returned and saying, "I'll see you soon, buddy."
Sometimes, I found all that niceness she gave to me quite annoying, because what she never understood is that what a big boy I really am and she should not cuddle up and lift up a five-year old big boy like a baby. I complained to mummy and daddy each time she did, they only smiled and said, "Your sister loves you very much."
Yes she does, but a little too much sometimes. She always called me her very best friend—which I liked, and I often got cross when she called other people and things by pet names. I also got cross when she began spending all her time with the bed; perhaps she would forget all about me now that the bed was her new best friend.
So when she suddenly disappeared to have a trip to the stars, I felt quite relieved that maybe she wouldn't cuddle and tickling me with too much love to a point where it disturbed me, but mummy and daddy were suddenly like stone. They wouldn't talk or move except for the tears slowly streaming down their faces. I felt cross with my sister again; what had she done that made mummy and daddy cry? She can be such a bad girl.
But I began missing her on the fifth day of her trip. Everything started to feel strange; there was no one suddenly picking me up and blowing raspberries on my tummy, there was no one throwing me over their shoulder and taking me to the bookshelves to pick out a story for bed-time, there was no one to hug me tight or call me her best friend. I started to get impatient; why was she gone for so long? Didn't she love me anymore? I wondered if I was the one who hurt her, so at night I stared up at the stars and promised to her that I'd accept all her cuddles, I wouldn't wipe away her kisses, and I wouldn't tickle her back or even fight with her anymore. I would share all my candy and toys—if only she'd come back soon.
I miss her so much.
I miss the way she'd spend hours I front of the mirror fixing her hair. I miss the way she'd smell like 'She' perfume during the day and 'Yardley' powder at night. I miss our little chats lying in bed; we talked about what we'd do when we're grown-ups. I miss the way she'd always want to be thin but eat lots of food at the same time. I miss my sister.
So on the twentieth day of her adventure, I was walking with mummy before bed-time at night and I asked her when she'd come back. But mummy's eyes were suddenly watery and she said that my sister wouldn't come back, but we'd see her very, very soon.
Mummy said the same thing lots of times, but it isn't true.
Because soon never came.
Why didn't she kiss me one last time before leaving? Did she forget about me? Is she riding on light? Is she one of the stars now? Is she still my best friend? Does my sister still love me? Will I ever see her again?
The next time she leaves me, will she remember to say goodbye?
The writer is a grade nine student at Sunbeams School.
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