Train Of Thought: Delayed

Evil's Right Hand

Long dirty blonde hair that trails behind her as if in her past life she was Rapunzel, she stands taller than most her age always eager to measure herself against me, counting down to the day she overthrows me, her health and safety problematic closet consisting of mainly sports tights and crop tops as she never stops moving, bright blue orbs that seem as though slices of moonlight were captured and placed into her eyes always seeing the fun in everything. No creases or frown lines to be found on her face as she's never had a bad moment in the short amount of life she has experienced, she's the golden child, the baby of the family, one who gets priority over everyone else. I'm sure, if she were allowed, she would have a large sign in neon lights reading "bow down peasants". When she's upset you know the world is about to end for someone.

Sitting across the table from her can be rather frustrating, seeing that innocent, shy freckled smile directed at all her next unsuspecting victims, I feel the annoyance bubbling up inside because I know what really lurks in that false sense of security and I know what the true emotions lie in that smirk. Evil in Disguise, I call her, at times what can be an annoying gnat turns into the one thing set on ruining your life for the next 7 years.

Parents and teachers give you advice when you're younger such as being polite, stop being annoying, be the big person, don't talk to strangers, and not to judge a book by its cover, well let me tell you now my, continuous head bashing against a brick wall annoying, little sister, she is the complete definition of the saying "don't judge a book by its cover" so much as if you were to look it up in the dictionary all it would have written there would be her name, Neeve.

"Hey Tara, you busy daydreaming about your boyfrand? Has he got a nice car, like a Mustang?" she calls mockingly from across the table, her higher pitched voice travelling into my ears and hitting my eardrums at an infuriating angle. I've never had a boyfriend in my life and I how sees always asking me questions, sees always been curious about anything and everything, I remember her toddler days,  that was a hard period of my life.

"Leave me alone" I snap back, looking unimpressed and fulfilling the typical stereotype of a moody teenager.

She sits their all perfect as she picks at the rich chocolate brownie before her, an act that has taken years in the making. Chatting with my parents, who are also sat at the table, civilised, flashes of the yells and screams that have perinatally embedded themselves on my memory bank like an unhealed scar. I see the blurs of various objects fly past me as they were flung from one side of the house to the other without a care of what gets in the way, walls, furniture, body parts all left as vulnerable targets. As she gestures simply with her hand's visions of limbs thrashing like prey making its last bid for freedom even though she is the predator on her attack against the innocent. I still feel where the bruises were printed onto my skin. The lasting remains of a tantrum. 

Although we have had our differences in the past and a fair few amounts of scraps, shes still my little sister. She's still the one person in the world who I may wish the worst of at times but also want more than the best to come for her. She's the funniest annoying ball of energy that I get to spend most of my downtime with. And I am the only one who gets to mock her, tense her and speak badly of her. She's my little sister.