My sister, Anica, swung the front door open. "Hey, it's me," she announced as she kicked her shoes off. Her voice echoed up the high ceilings. "In here," I yelled from my room. Anica jogged up the stairs and into my room, flopping down on my bed. Demi held different pajama pants up to her legs with her right hand and different colored tank tops in her left. She posed differently as she compared the colors in the mirror on my closet door. I sat at my vanity, tracing my eyes with eyeliner. "Can I help you?" I asked without turning my head. My sister stuttered as she twisted a piece of her bangs with her index finger. "C-can you make me look like you?" she mumbled. I paused suddenly, feeling my stomach drop. "Did you say 'look like me,' Anica? Why would you want to do that?" I asked, placing the cap on my eyeliner pen. She shook her head, "I don't know. This was stupid. Sorry." Anica turned to walk out the door. Demi and I yelled out a "wait" in unison. "Come back here, rat junior. Let's do something... different," Demi said, jumping up.
Demi and I watched as my little sister modeled whatever clothes I had that fit her. I swatched shades of eye shadow and lip stick on her skin as Demi messed with my sister's curly, pink and black hair. "How about this?" Demi said, holding up a crop top. "It's December," Anica replied. "Right. So?" Demi replied. My sister just gave her a look. I chuckled watching them share equally confused looks with each other.
Anica finally settled on a gray, fitted turtleneck paired with a black mini skirt, and layered pantyhose. She insisted on keeping her combat boots, so I allowed it. In the middle of applying a peachy blush to her cheeks, I finally got the courage to ask: "Why did you ask to look like me?" Demi looked at me before continuing to braid Anica's hair into high pigtails. Anica took a deep breath, careful not to move her face too much. "People constantly talk about you. You're only a sophomore and you're awesome at everything!" She exclaimed. "Don't move," I warned. She adjusted herself, looking a little sadder than when she walked in. "I just get involved in school," I began. "Yeah. Cheer captain during your second year of high school. Already the top of the food chain," Anica blurted, cutting me off. "I genuinely enjoy it. And I already had everything I needed. Thank you to mom and dad for my genetics. Being pretty and nice is all you really need. You can get almost anything . Chin up, eyes wide," I said as I started on her mascara. "I don't think I'm very pretty and I'm certainly not very nice," Anica sighed. "And I'm... bigger than some people," she continued. I peaked my eyes down to see my baby sister clutching a stuffed unicorn in front of her stomach. I sighed feeling a mix of anger and frustration. In that moment I knew exactly how she was feeling. I used to vent to Demi about it.
The summer after eighth grade was a summer filled with diets, extra gymnastics practice, and a strict workout routine. All because of an older boy Minji introduced Demi and me to at the eighth grade Valentine's Day ball. They were macking on each other all night until Minji went to the bathroom. Demi went with her, since Minji was tipsy from sneaking swigs of the flask she stole from her dad. Within ten minutes of Minji puking in the bathroom, the guy came over and tried hitting on me. I rejected him and he called me a "fat pig." Those words struck eighth grade me like a bolt of lighting. That night I went home and found that my Snapchat and Instagram were being raided by the guy and his friends. I was bombarded with messages about my weight and how ugly I was. How the guy only hit on me out of pity. From that day on I cut out as much carbs, sugar, and fat out of my diet as I could. In hindsight, I might've overreacted, but words can hurt. I did take back my power freshman year when I joined the cheerleading squad. On the first game I cheered at, the guy was the starting quarterback. He ended up getting clipped by some linebacker, and tore his "ACL." He was out for the rest of the season and lost his scholarship to the University of Massachusetts. His karma caught up with him, which brought me more confidence. I learned a powerful lesson that day. Now, I have to teach it to my sister.
YOU ARE READING
Abducted
Mystery / ThrillerWe all think we're average. We think there's nothing special about us. But, what if I told you that there was someone who thinks differently? Somebody who wants you. They'd do anything to get you. (Finally under editing)
