Its early morning on a brisk winter day when I stretch and rub my eyes, which are blinded by the sun streaming in from my overly large window, and sit up. Slowly as I stand, I walk over to my curtains and yank them shut. I smell the air as wisps’ of Betty Crocker Pancakes fly by. They didn’t bother to wake me for breakfast, “figures.” I huff. I’m not first priority on their list. I moan and do a belly flop back onto my bed. I’m not sure if I’m ready for my non-caring mothers nagging or my father’s disapproving frown I get every day.

I slide open my way-too-expensive drawers, which aren’t even half filled and pull out an oversized sweat shirt and some jeans by the name of a designer I can’t even pronounce. I slip them on and I walk downstairs. They creak with every step. I stop at the window and stand, staring blankly at my baby brother on our old, broken down swing set on the verge of extinction, but he loves that swing set. Mom and dad have been telling him they’d get him a new one, but he would cry every time they mentioned it. Sometimes I wish Tony would just stay five. He lives it too well, has too much fun. I dread the day when he grows up to see that not everything is as magnificent as that old swing set. That, as perfect as this family may seem-big house, lots of cars, money, friends-there are cracks."Just keep swinging, Tony."I mutter to myself.

“So you decided to join us?” My mother sharply asks, sickened that I’m even alive. Well, that’s how it sounded. “Why the hell would I want to join you?” I reply as I grab my winter coat from the steal hook. “Listen hear young lady, we do not disrespect family in this house.” My dad yells at me from across the room. I stared at him and his furrowed brow and chuckled, “I suppose I’m not family to you then.” I opened the wide door then slammed it shut behind me. My mom and her strawberry blond curls, perfect skin, just like my sister, Katie. Mom’s beautiful, but I hate her and her fake smile. I’m just a disappointment to both her and my father because I’m nothing like my older siblings.

I knelt down beside Tony and kissed him on the cheek, “Where are you going?” he asked. “Out,” I replied, “Just need to get away from this house.” “Oh.” He sighed. Tony and I were the only ones who understood each other. My older sister was just as stuck up as my mother and barely home and my brother went away to college in England two years ago and we never hear from him. “I’ll see you at dinner” I told him.

There’s a coffee shop down the street I go to just to relax and think about things. Today I’ve come to write a letter to Tony. He’ll need it if he’s anything like me, which he is.

Dear Tony,

One day you’ll grow up and realize that this family is not what it seems and the expectations are over the top. At age five you could see there was something wrong with the way we functioned. You’ll need a friend, though I’m sure you’ll have plenty with your dazzling personality. I may not live in the same house, but I’ll always be here for you. If you need a friend, I’m your gal.

Love,
Your Big ‘Sis