"Dylan." I said as she walked in the door. " What?" She said with drool dripping out of her mouth . " Do you want to tell me why there is a stash of pot under the bathroom tile?" " Um, no I honsetly don't." I walked into the kitchen and grappled a old trash bag and went into my room and started packing up. " what are you doing?" Dylan asked. " I can't live like this! I'm tired of you coming home at 2 am drunk as hell. I'm leaving." I said sadly " No our not." Dylan said all snotty. "Im not kidding this time Dylan. Im tired of it. I, I just cant live like this anymore." It was funny. I have said Im leaving probably like 4 times in the past 2 years. I meant it all times but when i walk out of the aparment i realized that Dylan was all i all i have and we are family. But no. This time, as i walked out the door, i did not have that feeling of guilt. i did not miss dylan. i did not care hat she was my sister. i felt no love for her anymore. i felt ok. i felt like everything was going to be ok. But i was wrong.
