Gavin

The last time I talked to my little sister was a decade ago, right after she returned home after marrying my former best friend. I didn’t say a word to her or her new husband that night, as I was too angry to even look at her after what she did to me. At that moment, it felt like a betrayal, as if she had stabbed me with a blunt knife right in my heart again and again.

Sarah was always like this. Most people would describe her as a selfish, spoiled brat, too busy in her own world to see her surroundings, but I knew my sister long enough from all these people to state she was a different sort of animal who happened to be in the golden cage, which didn’t go well with her nature.

After her marriage, there was a simple distance between us that none of us created again. None of us tried to end it. It was there, and we went with it without saying or thinking about it. Every day, I thought about my sister. After a decade, perhaps there was a change in her rebellious manner, or she was still