Sister

Sister, we've got our differences. Our looks, for one – you dark and curly, me light and straight. Our interests, for another. I'm sure if we grew up together our fights would have been numerous – there is only room for one person to know everything, of course. And there is no one else I know who wouldn't hesitate to tackle me for a cell phone.

But what are my words when I see the blood and the runners and the spectators and feel the fear? Or when my world is falling apart?

Simply, with certainty, "I want my sister"