Moving brings Siblings Closer

I couldn’t believe it…we had to move? The news devastated me, ruining my everything, as much as my everything could be at 10 years old. Of course to me at that age, that was a lot. Having to leave all my friends, and not only that, we were moving across the country from one coast to the next. My sister seemed slightly upset, but not quite as much as myself. At that age I hated change, I was stubborn, and didn’t like this idea one bit.

My mom had been a single mother for as long as I could remember, my father splitting when I was one, my sister only 2 years older than myself. She worked hard to keep a roof over our head, food on our plates, and clothes on our back. She didn’t go to college, but was highly skilled with computers and marketing, making it a surprise to most she had such a successful job as a marketing manager for her company. Her company decided with their recent growth it was time to relocate…for some reason they decided to relocate over 2500 miles away. Though my mother didn’t like the idea of packing up everything and moving, it was the best job she had in quite some time, and feared not being able to find a comparable job with competitive pay. Her work offered to help pay for the move and even set us up in a small month-by-month rented townhouse. So it was set, my mother broke the news to us. We said our goodbyes to all our friends and headed out by car.

My sister tried to cheer me up during the long car ride, poking jokes like we usually did, playing car games, anything her 12 year old mind could think of. We would often play tongue sword fights, for some reason we never thought of this as wrong, and my mother seemed to allow it seeing it was just all in fun. We began the tongue sword fights, sticking out our tongues, mine fairly long, just how it was since birth. Our tongues would meet, slashing against each other in an epic duel—or so as our minds saw it. Of course, my sister always won as she would bite my tongue and claim victory. The drive was extremely long, we shacked up at a motel for the night to begin our drive the next morning; of course, my mom wanting to beat traffic, the next morning meant 4 am. My sister and I reluctantly loaded up into the car and began the journey again, this time too tired to play any car games. My sister sat on her side, her thin spaghetti strap shirt hanging on her young body, her shoulder length brown hair dangling along her shoulders and one side of her face, her small stomach moving with each slow breath, causing her premature, developing breasts to rise and fall in the same rhythm. I lay on the other side, my shorter yet thicker brown hair ruffled as I sleep subconsciously with my fingers in the waistband of my pants, mouth slightly ajar as my small body begs for more sleep.

After quite a few more hours of driving, making a few pit stops, we finally arrived at what would be our temporary home until we could finalize renting a home of our own. It was a two story building, somewhat like apartments and townhouses combined. Though it was two story, each story would hold one person, or in this case family. My sister helped my mother unpack the few supplies we brought with us, the rest of the home still in a giant u-haul trailer awaiting our final resting point. My sister, Michelle, and I had always been close friends, she always looked out for me.