Updated: Aug 6, 2019
I smile at her and then lie back in my own bed, the sudden weight of exhaustion pushing me into the mattress. The ceiling still has the faded marks from the time Mama and Papa glued a whole constellation of stars to swivel above my bed. I pried them off with a butter knife as soon as I was tall enough to reach by just putting a stool on my desk. It didn’t take all that long, but Tanya was convinced Mama and Papa would be mad at me. They just found funny.
She wasn’t always right about everything after all. That’s the whole problem. Had she just given us a chance, we wouldn’t be going through this horrific day. She always thought she knew best; what people thought of her, how people would react, how someone was being fake. She was too sensitive to it all. She wasn’t right about everything but it becomes hard to say that to her when she didn’t even stick around for the conversation.