It's a bright, sunny Saturday morning, almost too cheerful for this solemn occasion. I stare out my bedroom window and feel a sudden twinge of excitement and fear each time I hear a car turn onto my street. I can't believe after all this time she is coming home.

I remember the day she left. She had threatened to run away before, but I guess I didn't believe her or maybe I didn't care. She was my only sister but I was sick of the fighting and yelling and all the pain she was causing me and my family. I suppose she was too, because one day she stormed out of the house and didn't come back.

I felt a lot of different feelings after that, but mostly anger. I was angry that she got to take off leaving all her problems behind and me to pick up the pieces of our shattered lives. I was angry that she left me there to see the sorrow and hurt she caused my parents. She didn't care.

And I was lonely. She left me when I needed her most. She left me all alone with no one to talk to, no one to help me through these rough times, and no one to help me deal with my mixed feelings.

It took a while but my family started to put our lives back together. We began to feel close again. I got used to being an only child and my parent got used to just having me around. It wasn't the same but we were actually beginning to feel love and happiness.

I hear a car pull into the driveway. She is home. I wonder what will become of our family, as she opens the car door and steps out. She doesn't look as I remembered. She looks older, worn out. Her eyes are sad and her face is serious, not the smile that used to cheer me up when we were younger. She looks at me and I return her stare. We both look at my parents and I know things will never be the same. 1