My sister is a large person. About 6 foot, 170 pounds, plays every sport she can fit in her tight schedule. Today, she looks petite. Tiny. Almost childlike. Curled up on the large grey sofa chair in the corner. Her eyes are bloodshot and her skin is pale.
I warned her. I did. I know what it's like.
She went anyways.
And she will hate herself because of it.
Our living room is bright. Skylights and long wall windows fill the space with warm light. If it rains we pull the curtains closed and turn on the fire to remain cozy. The look in my sisters eyes makes me want to pull the curtains closed and wrap in warm blankets. Her blank expression, cloudy eyes, tight lips, pale face, all look like she could be pulled out of a horror movie. I can't look away from her, I want to scream and have a mental break down. I feel like someone is holding my mouth shut.
Her eyes dart to mine and I gasp. "What do you want?" She snarls. I stand and quietly leave the room. I hear her stand and follow me. I don't look back and walk up the stairs to my room. Not long after I hear her legs taking heavy steps. Up. Up. Up.
The closer she got the more I wanted to cry. My door flew open. I was sitting on my bed hugging my knees.
"Don't." She whispers and leaves my room with the door open wide.
