Author By Chance

Twenty One; The branches that spread far from the tree

Katherine's POV:

"So, little sis, how is your writing going? And where's Ian?" My older sister nonchalantly asks. As if this exchange wasn't weird at all and the 6 year gap didn't even exist at all. Plus, she was wearing a torn up nude/ivory and white wedding dress, what is that all about? 

I fake a smile at her and fight the urge to pour the pot of tea all over her torn up, yet still gorgeously designed wedding dress. To say that I was jealous of her because she was living her dream would be an understatement, I was beyond furious. It was wonder how our mother accepted that my older sister could pursue this fanciful dream of hers and hold back on letting me off of the leash to pursue mine. Especially given her attitude to people less fortunate than her.

"My writing is going fantastic thank you. Not that you even took a liking to it that is... But that is beyond the point I want to ask you a question first, why are you wearing a wedding dress?" I say as I take a sip of my cup of Espresso and ignore the question about Ian. 

It was too soon for me to talk about Ian, I may have created a protest with Emma on the school dress code but my feelings for Ian are still there. An open wound waiting to be split open at the seams while he gets to live his life as if I was just another girl whom walked into his life. I guess love isn't for everyone to feel...

"Now sis, just because I was too busy running my fashion empire doesn't mean that I don't care about you a ton. Now, about Ian, how are you two? The last time I even saw the boy he was ye high." My sister says, sticking her hand out to show the height of Ian 6 years ago and in turn ignoring the question about why she is wearing a wedding dress that is torn at the bottom of it. 

I try to fight the urge to feel angry at her. I fight the urge to steal a glance at Lincoln because I know he is watching the exchange between my older sister and I carefully. Fiddling with my fingers as I do usually when I don't know what to do with my hands I analyse my sister cautiously. Why out all of the times she could have been right by my side, did she choose this time period to come back into my life. It was as if her words from 6 years ago were long forgotten, "sis, you won't make it in the writing world. Your writing needs a ton of work, you should really have something stable going for you. Like I don't know, becoming a lawyer perhaps."

I sigh, as she awkwardly shifts in the seat beside me, letting her dress ruffle along with it and takes a huge gulp of her tea.

"Ian and I aren't friends anymore. End of story." I bark, a little too aggressively then I should have.

"Wow, someone's got their knickers in a bunch. I was just simply asking a question. Or is this some kind of thing you do as an author, push people who love you dearly and just use them for your own purpose of writing about them. Absolutely disrespectful I would say." My sister says annoyingly keeping her composure from my little outburst.

"Do you even remember, when you ripped my first book that I have ever written and told me that I shouldn't pursue a career in writing. You know how much that hurt me when you said those words. My sister telling me that I shouldn't pursue a career in writing when she is out here creating a fashion empire with comfortable clothing. I was ten years old when you said that I shouldn't pursue a career in writing! And you think that you can waltz right back into my life as if you even should have a place in my life after you ripped my dreams into shreds and watched as I cried because my words don't matter! Well, news flash big sis you can't just enter into my life whenever you want to... You have to earn your page." I bark at her as I stand up to my horrible sister, who only cared about making everyone's dreams into dust. Never mind the fact that she was a bully to me and never once checked up on me for the 6 years that we have been apart.