Personal Narrative - Renewed Love for My Sister

Personal Narrative - Renewed Love for My Sister

Length: 1263 words (3.6 double-spaced pages)

Rating: Excellent

Open Document

Essay Preview

More ↓
Personal Narrative- Renewed Love for My Sister

"The essence of life is to be found in the frustrations of established order." -John Gardner

"God, Kris, you are so disgusting!" I made a noise like a rhino in heat as I opened my mouth to reveal the large piece of orange gum that hung precariously from my tongue.

"Thanks a lot, E. You're the one that called it an orange slug." We both let out an uproarious laugh and quickly quieted ourselves. The geriatrics nearby were looking at us again. Our stifled laughter was still loud enough to make passersby wonder about our sanity, and that was just the way we liked it.

"Wait, wait! Do it again, but open your eyes wide; like you did the first time." I concentrated hard for a second, then with my eyes as wide as I could make them, I dropped my jaw and flicked my tongue wildly in her direction. I then snapped my mouth shut and blinked heartily. I licked my lips and tasted the sweet, artificial-peach flavor. The "slug" rolled around gleefully in my mouth as Erika and I chuckled at the various mallrats screaming and laughing in the opposite corners of the food court.

"What a bunch of fucking losers!" Erika said as she flopped the middle part of her "tri-hawk" to the right side of her head and looped the barbell in her tongue through the two lip rings that protruded awkwardly from her mouth.

A putrid scent was carried our way by crowds of people that were walking by us. I could taste the stench in the air.

"Let’s get up and walk around. The Cookie Guy said it would take thirty minutes or so." We’d ordered a cookie for my mom who had just had knee surgery. The "Cookie Guy" in question was a good-looking, nice guy who had helped us. It was more than a little strange to tell him that I wanted a giant cookie that said, "We love you, Mommy!" I thought about telling him to write something like, "Welcome back from the state pen. Thirty-five years is a long time, Daddy" or "We love you, Elvis," but in the end, I decided against it.

We followed my suggestion and walked up the mall to the Deb Shop. Even from thirty feet away it reeked of perfume and cheap, polyester fabric. As we closed the distance between ourselves and the store, the sheen of the predominantly sparkly clothing temporarily blinded us with a bright reflection of the healthy orange glow emitted by the fluorescent lights perched high above.

How to Cite this Page

MLA Citation:
"Personal Narrative - Renewed Love for My Sister." 18 Aug 2018

Need Writing Help?

Get feedback on grammar, clarity, concision and logic instantly.

Check your paper »

Essay about Grandfather’s Love (Grandpa's Love)

- My Grandfather’s Love As we neared the house I could see the front yard emerge amidst the hurricane-twisted pines that stood like sentinels guarding a castle. Pulling into the yard, I noticed that the grass looked like one of my great-grandmother's patchwork quilts. Old, but new in a way, shaded with varying hues of greens and browns seeming to be sewn together with sporadically mounted ant hills adjacent to a wondering dog's paw prints. We pulled into the driveway slowly as not to disturb dust that lay sleeping on the broken concrete....   [tags: Personal Narrative Profile Essays]

Research Papers
829 words (2.4 pages)

Love for an Underacheiving Team Essay

- Love for an Underacheiving Team Sitting in a green wooden seat marked number “3” in the second row of section 27, I saw Sammy Sosa practice swinging near the dugout. His forearms and shoulders bulged giving a muscular shape to the blue and red Cubs jersey. His thighs were as thick as baby cedar trees. Sammy stepped up to the plate calmly. As he tightened his blue batting gloves snug around his wrists, he also dug two spots for placing his feet. I heard chants from the rising crowd behind the Cubs dugout “M-V-P, M-V-P!”....   [tags: Personal Narrative Writing]

Free Essays
1094 words (3.1 pages)

Win a Trip Essay

- Raindrops trickled down as the party was in full swing. What was a perfect Saturday on the white sands off the coast of Guadalcanal in the Solomon Islands and break from research for a health communication for development media platform, came to a close as the sun set in tandem with the incoming storm. The real fun was about to begin. Theo, an Australian who had worked in the Solomons for the past year and one of the friends I made, started his car and we moved from the beach to a dirt road within bush approaching the main road....   [tags: personal narrative]

Research Papers
564 words (1.6 pages)

Personal Narrative - Lasting Love Essay

- Personal Narrative - Lasting Love I had never made biscuits and gravy before. The blessings of having a good cook as a Mom were abundant, but alas, I never did learn the many techniques that wonder woman possessed. My repertoire included: peanut butter cookies, a deliciously heated can of Pork n Beans, and Rice Krispie treats that were always too crunchy. But, Joseph wanted biscuits and gravy, so that is what Joseph got. His sister told me the recipe over the phone. Joseph had called her up long distance and gruffly demanded that she rattle off the legendary gravy recipe that their mother used to serve....   [tags: Personal Narrative Essays]

Research Papers
2504 words (7.2 pages)

Personal Narrative- My Love of Reading and Writing Essay

- Personal Narrative- My Love of Reading and Writing Reading and writing has always played a vital part in my life. From toddler to adult, pre-elementary to college, I’ve managed to sharpen both skills to my liking. However, even though it significantly helped, schooling was not what influenced me to continue developing those skills into talent. Many different things shaped and influenced my learning, and now reading and writing have become the safety net of my life. I know that even if I have nothing else in the future, I’ll still have my talent and knowledge....   [tags: Personal Narrative]

Research Papers
1398 words (4 pages)

Personal Narrative- First Love and Missed Opportunities Essay

- Personal Narrative- First Love and Missed Opportunities As a sophomore my workload consists mainly of three very different classes. But within the first week I had something to tie them together; love, to be more specific, first love. In my bible study class, the professor wanted to illustrate the human ability to recall detailed information regarding personally important events. He posed the question “How many of you remember your first love?” and went on to say how we should approach bible study with a degree of passion....   [tags: Personal Narrative Writing]

Free Essays
2612 words (7.5 pages)

Essay on Personal Narrative- The Path Towards Grace, Love and Peace

- Personal Narrative- The Path Towards Grace, Love and Peace When I was 16 I left my parents home. One month before I left, I wrote this in my journal: “What is the fluttering in my belly, rising up through my chest. An apprehension — a fear — excitement. I am anticipating a change — a falling down — a caving in of something I expect to be solid. I’m in a strange place, moving slowly forward with nothing that can be measured — an internal advancement, a shedding away of old selves. I am pared down.” The story of my leaving still feels like something written in code — a code no one could understand on the rational mind level....   [tags: Personal Narrative Writing]

Free Essays
2651 words (7.6 pages)

Personal Narrative- A Non-traditional Love Story Essay

- Personal Narrative- A Non-traditional Love Story I first met Tyler at "Above and Beyond", a support group for brain parasites. I don't have brain parasites, and neither does he, but that's where we met. I had seen him before at other support groups, and he never used his real name. He would always glare at me, as if I was intruding on him or something. I've dated a lot of weird guys before, guys that liked to cross-dress, guys that couldn't get enough body piercings, but Tyler takes the cake....   [tags: Personal Narrative Essays]

Free Essays
1515 words (4.3 pages)

Essay I Had to Fight to Read

- It was summer, stinking hot in a small town and I was fifteen and bored. The town librarian had been giving me grief since I was eleven and in the sixth grade, when she issued her first decree that I wasn't "old enough" to check out what became the first of a long line of books I had to fight to read. It was also the first of many times when one or both of my parents trudged down to the library to insist equally firmly that she had no right to restrict my choices as I had their permission to read whatever I wanted....   [tags: Personal Narrative, Autobiographical Essay]

Free Essays
672 words (1.9 pages)

Crossing Borders Essay examples

- Crossing Borders The beat-up Arab minivan slowed tentatively under the scrutinizing gaze of the Israeli soldier on duty. The routine was simple. About halfway between Damascus Gate in East Jerusalem and Ramallah, the West Bank commercial center, the driver, blaring Arabic music on his radio, maneuvered around the dusty slabs of concrete that composed the Beit Haninah Checkpoint. He waited for a once-over by the Hebrew-speaking 18-year-old and permission to continue. Checkpoints-usually just small tin huts with a prominent white and blue Israeli flag-have become an integral and accepted part of Palestinian existence under Israeli occupation....   [tags: Personal Narrative Essay Example]

Research Papers
519 words (1.5 pages)

Related Searches

I shielded my eyes and sidestepped my way into the store.

"Keribou!" a nickname for me. Which, only Erika used, "Check this out!" With anticipation tugging at the corners of her mouth, she lifted up a very large dress, which had butterflies printed on it.

"Whoever made this dress should go to Hell forever. Oh look, Krisi, it’s a fatty dress!" Her sarcastic comment reached every corner of the store and the customers looked at her with bewildered and sometimes disgusted faces. I knelt down, embarrassed by her comment, and laughed into my knees.

"God, Erika, you are so mean!"

"You know the fashion industry has really lost its touch when butterflies and flowers are the ‘in thing’." she stated sarcastically.

I walked away, but she continued to talk, "What a stupid combination anyway. How do you decide to make a mumu with little butterflies and shit all over it? When did... stupid... get..."

My bare skin mingled with soft velour shirts and sordid little sweaters that looked like lint balls glued together.

"Delicious," I said to myself sarcastically as I reflected on some of the uglier outfits of the day.

Unbeknownst to me, my journey was leading me toward the shoe section, which consisted primarily of fuzzy black things and animal print shoes. By the time I reached the shoes, Erika had already picked out several pairs of them. Her favorite pair were chunky-heeled, red leopard-print shoes.

"I want," she said as she shuddered with excitement.

"Erika, it looks like someone killed a New York hooker for her pelt. Those are gaudy as hell."

I quickly realized my mistake as I took a step back and looked at my sister.

The short skirt she was wearing had punk-rock overtones, and many patches that were complimented by her fishnet pantyhose and a pair of clunky black shoes. The little bit of red in her outfit was pleasantly accented by her hair, which was indeed a nice shade of pink. Her black eye shadow, which made the whites of her eyes stand out, contrasted her pale face perfectly. She was a walking work of art. I suppose she resembled a Picasso in a strange, unfamiliar way; beautiful, ugly, and somewhat confusing all in the same note.

"Oh shit, it’s cookie time," Erika said as she led the way back to the food court. I sang to myself as we ambled down the cheap tile toward the shops with fake Oakleys.

"You don’t bring me anything but down
Everything just crashes to the ground
no more playing seek and hide
no more long and wasted nights
can’t you make it easy on yourself
I know you wish you were strong
you wish you were never wrong
well I’ve got some wishes of my own..."

I walked behind her and watched her strut. She walked confidently, even as strangers stared at her. It was incredible.

As we reached "The Great American Cookie Company," I started thinking about my relationship with Erika. I could remember only the terrible, and heart breaking episodes of my life with her.

Her drug addictions had controlled her life for a long time, as had her alcohol abuse, lying, cheating and stealing. She alienated my family by constantly defying our moral beliefs. When she went to boarding school after she was arrested, her antics led to a speedy expulsion and the loss of a great deal of money. My family had been devastated physically, financially, and most definitely emotionally for years.

But on that day, she had forced me to laugh. Smiling at her jokes stung my cheeks, and I found myself rapt in thoughts of the past. As I paid the cookie guy, song lyrics rattled through my mind.

"You don’t bring me anything but down..."

For the first time in more years that I care to remember, I realized that I could love Erika again.

What a long road it had been. I missed the times we had spent together on our farm rolling through thick blades of grass. We had touched every inch of the property that we had grown up on. We’d climbed every tree, smelled every flower, and tasted the sweet juice of every honeysuckle. I had been near her since conception and I was forced away by her actions.

It was the most difficult time of my life when I could not love her. She had beaten the sensitivity out of my bones and had forced me into a corner. She made the choice for me, and I did not fight her.

Now it was my turn to make a choice. And I did. I made the most difficult choice I could have. I let the thing that had hurt me more than anything in the world back into my life, my twin sister. I had fortified my defenses for years, and I simply decided to submit to my need for her love. But that was just the way I liked it.
Return to