His Sister

The story

All my life I have strived to be better than him. He was a straight-A student, the baseball and soccer team captain, and was every teacher's favorite student. I have lived under his shadow for eighteen years now and I am sick and tired of it. He has always been there, even when he isn't at home. At my school, he is a legend. Everyone loves him. He's perfect. That's why it's so hard being his sister. I'm called that everywhere I go. "Oh, you're his sister! You're so lucky!" I hear that every time I leave the house. No one knows me for me, they just know me from him. I'm just ordinary and he's amazing.

I was supposed to go to college this year. I was excited because he wouldn't be the spotlight of everyone's life where I would've gone. He goes to Harvard, of course. He got scholarships everywhere, but only the best suits him. I applied to every school that doesn't know his name. I never want to be called his little sister again. I just want to shine on my own and not be caught in his shadow.

He came back home on break today. We had a huge party because he never comes home to see us. Apparently, he's too good for this small town now. The whole time I was at the party, the only thing said to me was "Why can't you be more like your brother?" Not a single other person talked to me about anything. I was ignored, once again hidden behind his shadow.

When we got home I made a hopeless effort to talk to my parents about how I felt. Once again my pleas were dismissed. It happens every time. The only response I have ever gotten is "Your brother never had these problems" and a half-hearted "yeah, you're great too". My school councilors never helped either. They go on rants about finding yourself and then ask me about him as if he isn't the problem in the first place. It's just not fair. Why is his life so amazing when mine is barely even recognized?

I'm sick of this mess called my life. I will not be known as his anything ever again.

I set my journal on the cool stone behind me, next to the letters I wrote the other night. My legs are shaky as I stand up and walk over to the edge of the rocks. I look down at the rushing water of the river, confident as ever in my decision. With one last look behind me, I am sure I am doing the right thing. I take one step and I jump.

I am done being his sister.