A few holidays came and went and Kathy and I were finally going on seven years old and nearly in the first grade. I was attending a shoddy, little public school on the outskirts of town and my sister was growing up into a beautiful young girl at a private school whose name I couldn’t even pronounce. God knows our father could do this for her, he could afford the world if she so chose to take it. She stopped in to visit on Easter and was wearing her private school attire to show off to me that there was such a thing as “Knee socks” and short, pleated skirts, things I could only dream of wearing to my childlike, seven year old girl eyes. She spun around a few times but then went to sit with the adults at the table like some young woman while I pleaded with her using my eyes to come play Barbies in the corner with me. She completely ignored my gaze and we barely talked the rest of the day.
That night, Kathy came into my bedroom and inspected it once over with her eyes. “I see you still have the same sheets on your bed, the same wall posters, the same everything.”
I nodded, not knowing what to say in return. “Yeah, don’t you?”
“No!” she laughed as if she had told the best joke in the entire world. “Dad bought me all new everything. He bought me the pink fluffy bed sheets I wanted, a brand new television set, and Hello Kitty wall decals! He even bought me my first MP3 player last week.” Suddenly, as soon as her mouth opened, it slammed shut and she dropped her gaze to the floor. “But, I always liked your bedroom…”
Discussion about this post