It wasn't easy waking up to the sound of my sister's disgusting singing downstairs, and her boyfriend coming over this particular morning was no helpful addition, but it was for this reason that I could not protest. Slowly I pulled myself from under the covers – a rather chilly morning made it that much more unpleasant – and dragged myself to the bathroom. There was nothing a good shower couldn't fix.

So the morning started off on the wrong foot. No big deal.


As I stepped out of the now steam-filled room 10 minutes later, I noticed the time on the clock: 8:30. I couldn't believe it. How could she bring him over and fill the house with noise so early? It was bad enough I hadn't slept well the night before. Now I'm expected to wake up at a time of her choosing?

I rapidly steamed up as my restroom had a few minutes prior, but once again, the presence of her boyfriend stopped me. I couldn't say or do anything to her, not now at least. It was upsetting, but I had the rest of a Sunday to get through. I had no choice but to let it go.

That was until the concert was interrupted.

“Yesi!” She yelled out to me. She was older and more authoritative, but her voice struck a nerve immediately, and out of impulse I yelled back.

“What the hell do you want?!”

Being 13 years old, normally this would be insignificant, but with guests in the house, we cannot and should not be rude. I expected all shock and no reply, but instead she quickly retaliated.

“Don't give me that voice! Go take out the trash! Right now!” Her voice unfastened, and instead of the usual anger in it, there was the slightest trace of frustration. I ignored the detection and her voice altogether. To hell with her. If she wants a clean house, she can clean it herself.

“Yesica! Hurry up!” The frustration was more noticeable this time, but once again I couldn't care less. This time I fired back.

“Do it yourself! You have plenty of time anyways!”

“YESICA!”

No more anger or frustration. This was a straight scream of pain.

I could not ignore it anymore. All the anger I had felt seconds before was gone, and I rushed down, wondering if she was okay.

I jumped past the last step and raced to where she and her boyfriend sat. Her eyes were fixed at a faraway object in front of her, her boyfriend sitting right next to her, eyebrows in an ugly “V”, clearly having just yelled at her. Acting solely off of impulse, I did the only thing I could.

“Get out of my house,” I told him, finding authority in his silence. He opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. “Now.”

Still upset, he jumped up, stormed out, and slammed the door behind him.

As I turned again to my sister, her eyes began to return. She turned to me, a look of deep apology on her face. Only now I understood why she had done what she had, and without a word, I accepted her apology.

She placed her head on my shoulder as she began to silently sob, and we sat there for what felt like 10 minutes, taking in the new-found emptiness of the room.

It's been a long morning for all of us, I thought.