Court!!" a cheerful voice calls out to me. "Mmhmm" I call out, my mind too absorbed in my painting to fully give her my concentration. Lilly rushes into the room catching my attention because she's not one to run anywhere unless the matter is of the utmost of importance. I turn to her, where she is bent in half, chest moving in and out in a staccato rhythm as if she just ran a marathon. She finally stands straight and waves around a letter as if that should mean something to me. Sometimes my sister seems to think I can read her mind, unfortunately that is not a skill I possess, yet. "I GOT INTO JUILLIARD!!!!! " It takes a moment for this sentence to fully penetrate my consciousness but when it does my reaction is instantaneous. I jump up and down, squealing and clutching at Lilly. My joy quickly infects her, or was it the other way around? Who knows? and she starts doing the same. Together we show our enthusiasm at her acceptance to a school that she had always dreamed of attending. I calm down a bit when we realise that the wall of our shared apartment are almost as thin as lace and that our whole floor, of grumpy old people, would probably soon be filing complaints about the noise level. I share my thoughts with Lilly and that soon sends us into another fit when she comes up with an image of old people jolting awake at the sound of crazy laughing girls. Whoever said she was an angel must have been crazy. "I have to go tell Monica about this" she tells me excitement filling through her and I can see the endless possibilities going through her mind on her best friends reaction to the piece of news. The thing with Monica though, is that you can never guess, she is one psycho lady ! Before I can even contemplate a good bye, Lilly has squeezed me hard into a hug and then set off through the door storming in and out of my room like a whirlwind. A good whirlwind that is.
The day I made the decision to stop being the cruel, conniving, evil, I could go on for ever, person that I was because of my ill found jealousy and hate, my life changed.
Exactly like I had predicted, once I stood up for my sister, the hate I had coerced our school mates into feeling for my sister, had turned with full rage upon me. I, alongside Lilly, was now the victim. I finally grasped the full consequences of what I had put my sister through. That the persecution she faced from my fellow classmates and I, was not just at school. It was everywhere. It never stopped. I couldn't go anywhere without something happening to me. I couldn't sleep for more than an hour before waking up with soul sucking nightmares. I couldn't look anyone in the eye without the fear of suffering.
Nothing was peaceful.
It was worse than what I figure eternal damnation would be like. I was the dartboard, the punching bag, the one people came to with their problems. Not to talk about their feelings, but as someone to take out their frustration on. Something.
My relationship with my sister also changed, for the better. I slowly rasped away at her mile high walls like water eroding away limestone, and like in nature, the final product was beautiful. I had gained her trust. Just by being with her, day after day, torment after torment. Because that is all someone in pain needs.
Someone to say "it will get better".
Someone you know will be your crutch when your legs can't force you up.
Someone to be there for you.
I was there for Lilly, and she was there for me. I taught her to believe again and she taught me to find my worth and self pride, where it was hiding all along.
The bullying continued all through high school and although we tried every single waking moment we had to stop it, we couldn't succeed. But we managed to make it better.
We found the silver lining in every cloud.
We saw the light at the end of the tunnel steadily advancing, just like our graduation.
Because we knew that in the end we would have fought through purgatory and survived.
And we did. We made it out alive. We stayed sane and got through it.
Of course we have our scars, but we wear them with pride.
As we should.
