My family was everything to me; it still is, I guess. Unfortunately, my family consists of only two people now. The substance of my life was taken from me. Ripped right from under me, like a Band-Aid from a bleeding wound. The burning flesh is still tender, just like the memory. It's a day I try not to remember, but the shattered remnant of the girl I once was...she won't let me forget it. The image plays like a scene from a film, forcing me to relive the worst day of my life. The day started like any other. We got up and got ready for school. My sister and I had separate bathrooms, so we never squabbled over that part of our mornings. Yet there was always the typical sister banter at the breakfast table - my sister rolled her eyes when I talked, and I stuck out my tongue at her response. That morning Becky had flung a spoonful of her oatmeal at me, staining my favorite white blouse with a purplish blueberry smear. I was about to dump my entire bowl of Cheerios on her head when my mom interrupted in her usual diplomatic way.
"That's enough, girls. Just eat your breakfast before you're late for school." My mom had saved Becky from a cold milk bath. "Go change your blouse, sweetheart, I'll get the stain out." I looked at my sister with disgust and quietly cursed her, Karma, Karma, Karma, Becky. I had a sly smile on my face. She knew I would get her back when mom wasn't around to see. How naive I was to think that.
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