Seven Goldfish

No Significance

When I was young, nine in fact, my older sister gave me a jar: an empty, clear jar with no significance whatsoever, or so it was not significant at that time. She placed it on my desk and told me not to touch it. I remember, she had looked at me and said:

“Carren, whatever you do, please don’t touch this jar.”

And she walked out.

I was a curious young girl back then, yet I adored my sister with my whole heart and listened to her. She had this beautiful smile that lit up my world, and her laugh- her laugh was the beauty in nature. It was impossible not to have adored her. I looked up to her; every step she took- I followed. I’d have followed her off a cliff, to the ends of the earth, I’d follow her everywhere. She was my star on the darkest of nights, and my rain in the desert. Life without such a soul was unimaginable.

I remember when I was five; I had these fears of thunder-storms. It was a stupid fear, yet I hated the way noises wouldn’t end and I’d hide under my covers, knowing that my sister would come to comfort me; dry my tears until I fell asleep. There was this one time where I couldn’t stay calm, my heart was racing, my head spinning and all I wanted was my sister to help. She was at her friend’s house though, sleeping over. I remember how I had complained asking why she was allowed to go and I wasn’t.

My parents had looked at me and laughed.

“Darling, Carren, your sister is 8 years older than you. When you are older, you can do stuff like that too.”

It had to be that night where the worst thunder-storm came. It had to be the night where she wasn’t in the house. It had to be that night when my mother tried to calm me down and couldn’t help at all. I was freaking out, body shaking uncontrollably. My mother had to call back my sister in the end at 10 at night. I felt bad afterwards and tried to do everything to make up for it. Every time I tried to apologize she just looked at me, smiled, and kissed my cheek. It was that day when I learned that my sister had the kindest and happiest spirit in the world.

At the age of seven, I had these moments where I felt alone. My sister, being 15, was all caught up in school and exams. I know she tried to spend every free moment with me, but those moments weren’t close to enough to fill the emptiness in my heart. I’d come up to her, pull her arm and beg for her to come and help me finish a puzzle or help me set up a tea party. Even when she tried to smile, the sadness in her eyes was so clear that even I, a seven year old girl, knew that she was struggling.

She’d just look away and say: “I’ll be with you in a minute.”

She wasn’t there in a minute, nor an hour, nor a day, nor a week. It seemed like years past without any communication. My idol had been separated from me, and I was stuck trying to find who I should follow. So the days past, me feeling more and more helpless by the minute; I couldn’t do anything to help.

I was nine when she gave me that jar. She had just received some letter about being accepted into a college, in America. I was happy, obviously I was happy for her, but that seemed like the other side of the world to me. I’d have my sister for one more year to hug and cherish and make up for all those days she was stuck in her room, working to her death. I couldn’t make up for all those parties and kisses and hugs. I couldn’t make up for 2 years in the span of one. There was really nothing I could do about her leaving, it had felt like I was hanging on a ledge by my hands. The drop would easily kill me, but no one was here to help.