Sisterhood and Rocks MAG

By Unknown, Unknown, Unknown

   I grew up on the bay and played every day on the rockswith my sister and best friend, Kate. Together, we were Pilgrims washing up onthe Plymouth shore, orphans escaping evil headmistresses, or pirates findingtreasures of glittering sea glass.

Every memory I have of my childhoodgoes back to the rocks. They were my home, my haven. I could run across theirjagged surfaces as easily as running through a field. My sister and I did notneed a television to keep us amused, we invented our ownentertainment.

Every winter, I would dutifully run outside and frolic inthe snow, but I always found myself drifting toward the frozen bay. I itched forthe time when I could again see the shimmering blue water, hear the cries of seagulls overhead, and feel the quick icy pain of the waves lapping over my feet. Itwas the simple carelessness I loved and I would already be mapping out ouradventures for the approaching summer.

Then one summer, something changed.I did not want to go down to the water's edge for fear I might ruin my pedicure.The thought of washing all the salt out of my hair disgusted me. Besides, Ididn't have time to play silly games on the rocks. And after all, that's all theyreally were: rocks in front of my house.

I could see my sister with herpleading eyes asking me to go play orphanage one more time, but I ignored her anddid what I thought a normal teenager should do.

Slowly, we grew apart. Icould not stand her odd habit of sitting in front of the water, gazing at it forhours. I began to find her strange and not "cool." So I taunted her. Ifound any way I could to make her feel insecure. But the truth was, I did notknow, or like, the person I had become, and needed to justifythat.

Finally, one summer afternoon, I was lounging in the sun feelingdissatisfied and depressed. I gazed across that smooth, constant water and felt adeep longing ... I wanted to laugh again and jump across those beckoning rocks.But most of all, I wanted to be with my big sister. I wanted once again to graspher hand and look at her with open admiration. I wanted to feel that sisterlybond and companionship again.

But when I found her and gazed into her coldand empty eyes, I knew I could never go back.

Similar Articles


This article has 2 comments.

i love this so much!

Lindsey S. said...
on Jan. 16 2009 at 4:59 pm


MacMillan Books

Aspiring Writer? Take Our Online Course!