Hey, Big Sister...

Single Chapter

Hey, Big Sister...

It's weird calling you that. But it doesn't matter. It's not like you're going to read this anyway... But I felt weird writing to myself, so now I'm talking to you instead.

Sorry, I'm rambling because I don't really know what to say here. I think this is a little stupid, the entire concept of diaries is just so high school protagonist from the early 00's rom-coms but mom said it could help me process everything that's been going on lately.

Honestly, I think this is just a way to make her and dad feel better, like they can finally check "take care of Janis" off of their to-do list by giving me this and telling me to open up about my feelings to a piece of paper, so they can focus on you without feeling like crap parents for ignoring their other child.

That sounded bitchy, didnt it? Sorry.

I swear I'm not trying to blame them, or you. How could I even do that? I get that this whole situation is tough, and I know everyone is trying their hardest to handle it. I understand that mom and dad dont have time for me at the moment because you need them a lot more than I do right now.

I'm not the one who went through hell, and im not the one who spent seven years dealing with the loss of my child without ever getting to know what happened to her.

But it was hard for me too, you know? I lost my sister, and I spent years trying to come to terms with the fact that you weren't coming back, and for years I watched mom and dad grow older and more tired, that little sparkle of hope inside of them dying a little bit every day until there was nothing left.

I tried so hard to be a good kid for them, to be as smart and well behaved as you, to make up for it, I guess. To fill in that hole. That didn't happen because that's not how things work. It's not how grief works, but as the years went on, things got a little better.

Mom stopped crying everytime she saw your empty seat at the dinner table, and we started celebrating birthdays and Christmases again; it took a long time, but eventually, they were able to say your name without bursting into tears.

You stopped being this tragic event hovering above us all the time, and you became a bittersweet memory that we could look back to and smile.

And then you came back.

It's weird because, after you were gone, they were all over me. Literally in a matter of days, they changed from the chill parents that were trying to raise the two of us as independent little girls to the extremely overprotective ones who wouldn't even let me walk to school by myself or let me say home alone for more than half an hour. And now they're back to being more absent because now all they see is you. It changed things, and I'm having a hard time getting used to it.

I'm having a hard time getting used to you.

You're my sister, and I love you. I loved you the first time, I loved you when everyone thought you were dead, and I love you now that you're back, but you're a stranger to me.

I'm so relieved that you're alive, but I can't say that you coming back made things better. Things were bad for a long time, but then they were good. And now everything is upside down.

Mom and dad look like they haven't slept in ages, the house is a mess, everything is so agitated with police visits, and the fucking reporters that didnt leave our front lawn the day you came home from the hospital, and the strange girl living in the bedroom next to mine.

When you got home and mom ushered me to the living room to meet you, I was in shock. I was looking back at my own face in yours, but I didn't recognize it at all.

We used to be so similar back then, even if you're a year older than me. s
So much that grandma used to get us mixed up all the time, remember? (Probably not. Mom told me the doctor said the trauma could make you struggle with memory, that's why you didn't remember our cat or Aunt Mallory). But now, we are so completely different.