Sisterly Love

January 4, 2010
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“GET OUT OF MY ROOM, STUPID!” Jillian yelled as Cassie ran into the half-closed door, using

all her strength to push it open. Jillian ran to the opposite side, dying to close her door.


fighting back her tears as they would make her seem weak. It was just a typical Sunday

afternoon. Both girls were bored, so what else is there to do than to pick a fight with each


“Girls! Stop it! I’m sick and tired of this constant arguing! Enough is enough!” their mother

ordered, her face red as she climbed the stairs to the bedrooms. Jill’s chest tightened like

twine as she opened her door; she hated when her mother got so upset.

“Mom, please. We can handle this,” Jillian said, looking up at her mother with puppy dog


“No, no you can’t. This is happening everyday! You’re sisters. You have to get along.” Jillian

and Cassie rolled their eyes. They’d heard this lecture every day, and for some reason it did not

affect them one bit. Then their mother dropped a bomb on them. “I’ve booked an appointment

to see a counselor,” she said. The sisters’ eyes bulged out of their heads, looking at their

mother like she was from another planet.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Mom, seriously? You actually think we’re crazy? There is no

way you’re getting me to walk into that office,” Cassie said, her eyes narrowing into a death

stare. She couldn’t believe her mother would actually do such a thing.

“I’m serious. Tuesday, right after school. We are going to settle this once and for all,” their

mother said as she walked back downstairs, the sisters staring at her in disbelief.


“So, what is the problem between you girls? ” the aged man asked as he sat in his leather

chair, looking at them behind his half-moon spectacles.

“Nothing. We’re two completely different people. The fighting is just an impulse. I don’t see

the problem with it,” Jillian said as she gave a dirty look to the counselor. She couldn’t believe

she was here, sitting on the hard school chairs beside Cassie, talking about their problems.

“Well, maybe you should set aside your problems. It seems that you both don’t know each

other very well,” suggested the counselor, giving a disapproving look at the girls as though the

whole thing was their fault.

“Um, we’re sisters? Of course we know each other,” laughed Cassie.

“Well, I’m giving you a challenge. A month from now, I am expecting a journal with daily

entries. These particular entries will be something good about your sister. Or even something

you learned about your sister. Understand?” the counselor asked, looking at both girls. Cassie

and Jill rolled their eyes. I can’t believe we are actually getting homework on each other! Jill

thought as she got up from her chair. This better be worth it in the end.

Weeks went by, and the sisters’ journals slowly filled. They started to find things in common,

such as they both laughed at the same things and liked the same types of music. Jillian never

realized how funny Cassie was, and eventually, the screams and yells lowered to chuckles and

shrills of laughter. Their mother was on Cloud Nine; she constantly reminded the girls that this

was all her doing and she walked around proudly. Everything in the household was calm, for
once. But of course, there is no such thing as a happy ending.


“I AM NOT FAT! WHY CAN’T I JUST GET A SNACK? HUH?” Cassie yelled, and she grabbed a

bag of ketchup chips. Near the end of the month, tension started to arise.

“Cassie, come on. I’m just trying to help. Can’t you wait until dinner? And I’m sure there is

going to be food at that party tonight. God, I didn’t even call you fat,” Jillian answered, looking

up like she was asking God for help.

“Yeah, are you jealous that I’m going to a party and not you,” Cassie laughed, emphasizing

on the “I’m” and sticking her tongue out.

“You know what? I’ve tried to be nice to you for the past month. But that was the last straw.

I was right,” Jillian shook her head as she raised her eyebrow, “You are selfish, spoiled, dumb,

and yeah, FAT!” Jillian screamed, and she quickly looked around to see if the windows were

closed. The neighbors would probably call the police. Cassie had a completely stunned look on

her face, and tears rolled down her chubby, pink cheeks. She ran up stairs, and Jillian couldn’t

help but add, “GOD, YOU ARE SO NOT MY SISTER!”


The warm summer night air filled the room as Jillian waited by the window, looking out every

two seconds. “Mom, why did you let Cassie out to that party? I told you she’s going to get into

trouble there. It’s not a girl’s sleepover, you know,” Jillian said, her hands tightened around

each other. It was one in the morning, and Cassie was nowhere to be found. Her mother had

the phone in her hand, and was pacing up and down the hallway with a pale look on her face.

“I-I don’t know Jillian. I just wanted her to socialize, she doesn’t have many friends. So when

I heard she was invited to this party, of course I would let her go,” her mother stuttered. As she

looked at the clock again, she called her daughter’s phone. With no answer, she finally dialed 9-



The floral smell lingered in the air, smelling like life, which was ironic for that particular

day. Dozens and dozens of flower arrangements surrounded the deep mahogany casket, like

the flowers were trying to make the dead more presentable. Jillian was first in line, with her

mother, and she made her way towards the casket, her sister waiting for her. As she kneeled on

the burgundy, cushioned bench, she started to shake, even shaking the coffin. Deep sobs rose

from her throat, as her mother rubbed her back in an attempt to comfort her daughter. This all

felt like a nightmare for Jillian, nothing was real. She was still in shock about the tragedy; who

could ever not take the precaution of being sober when driving? Heat formed on Jill’s face as

the thought passed through her. She looked down on her sister, her beautiful face now a pasty

white, with artificial rose cheeks and cherry-stained lips. Tears dripped down onto Cassie’s lilac

dress, as Jill cried hysterically. As she took one last look at her sister, she kissed her forehead,

which was unnaturally cold.

“I love you,” Jillian said as she got up from kneeling, and placed the infamous journal which

kept her and her sister close, into the casket. Jillian had another journal in her hand, her

sister’s. She barely able to get through the first page, where it said, “Jillian is my role model. She

is beautiful, smart, and funny. Everything that I, one day, hope to be.” You are, Jillian thought as

she followed the coffin out into the limo, you are all those things, and more. But most

importantly, you are my one and only sister.

Join the Discussion

This article has 1 comment. Post your own now!

millievm97 said...
Jun. 4, 2011 at 7:01 am
Wow. This piece is AMAZING! I absolutly loved it! My sister and I are kinda close, so hopefully this won't happen to us, but you never know.
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