“Where is the Leaning Tower of Pisa
anyway?” I asked. She looked up from the computer, her brows knitted and an
incredulous look was on her face.
“Oh
I don’t know, maybe, Pisa?!” Oh,
right. I guess that made sense, I can’t believe I didn’t notice that right
away.
“You
seriously didn’t know that the Leaning Tower of Pisa is in Pisa?” She
retorted with a snort and rolled her eyes before going back to the computer
screen.
I
don’t think there has ever been a conversation shared between us that did not
involve some level of sarcasm. Most of the time I thought we should have our
own reality show. We are pretty damn hilarious.
I
glanced over at her round, porcelain doll face. She was naturally tanned like a
surfer though, something she inherited from our mother that I did not. She
looked up at me with what I called her “just brown” eyes, to annoy her. But
what she called usually striking a dramatic pose, her “copper against honey with
flecks of sage that glowed when they were watery and became shades of nature
after a storm” eyes. She was pretty creative with her words, as well as in a
drawing book.
She
turned the computer screen towards me and said,
“look
at this post on Tumblr”, a sentence we say more often than we should.
This
post was a gifset, the first gif was of two bats who frantically moved their
wings and the second, was basically the same except there was a few seconds
where it was focused on one of the bat’s stressed faces. My sister animated the
captions of the gifs, something not unusual in our house.
“AHH
Walter, get the spider!” She said in a girly voice for the first gif.
“I
am TRYING
HELEN.” Was said next in a deeper voice, with exaggeration on the last
two words.
Her
loud laugh from her own joke made me burst out laughing too. She shook her head
while laughing. This made her waist long brown hair bounce, the light from the
lamp changed it from golden to dark chestnut with every shake. My laughs turned
into chuckles as I looked back down at my own Tumblr. She thought she was so funny, always laughing at her own
jokes but I guess she was pretty
hilarious.
She
fixed the beanie on her head and pushed her bangs back under the hat. The navy
colour always made her black eyeliner and mascara stand out more than usual. It
amazed me how she could change how she looked all the time and it came off like
she wore that style of clothes all the time. When we were younger it was always
hot pink and sparkles but now it’s a mix of everything. Some days I saw her in
plaid button ups and beanies and some days in fancy blouses and leggings; she
wore converse and then moccasins. It really was no secret that she has a large
closet full of variety. One she had also colour coated.
Her
room was pretty much her personality in a nutshell: crazy. She has her own
artwork on one wall, quotes on her ceiling, a brightly coloured comforter, and
bright coloured scarves hung on her canopy bed.
Immediately
when you walked in her room all you saw were boys: boys here, boys there, and
boys everywhere. And no, not a variety of boys either. It’s the same
British/Irish (she would murder me if I just said British) boy band known as One Direction. Cue hoards of teenage
girls screaming. Yes, I live with a mad fangirl. And I know you are probably thinking,
“yeah my sister (or brother) is a fan too and it gets wild” but no, you do not
even know the half of it. She was absolutely obsessed. Not a crazy fake fan that
said they loved the boys but completely butchered their names and information,
she was a wrathful, dedicated directioner (the fan clubs name). Unfortunately I
was on the receiving end of her antics, although it was pretty entertaining.
She
quoted what they said and tried to imitate their accents but she can only do
Niall’s, the Irish one, moderately OK and only with certain phrases. This
“phase but not really a phase anymore phase” has been going on since 2010 when
they were on the X Factor. Yes for four years and yes I know more about them
than I would like to admit. She has all of their songs, even ones not on their
albums, on her IPod plus hardcopies. She has t-shirts, drawings, and a Twitter
dedicated to them. At their concert she cried and legit bawled when Liam (her
favourite) came out on stage. She has a real crazy thing for boy bands and
people who are British. Even one wall in her room, that she painted herself,
was of the Union Jack and not the Canadian flag.
I
knew she sounded like a complete whack job now but the way I saw it was that
she was very passionate. When she loved something, she invested her whole being
into it and even if she didn’t love it she tried her best to do her best, which
was something I admired.
“I
WILL FIND HIM!” She suddenly screamed, which made me jump. She said it a few
more times before looking at me and smiled, her naturally pale red lips
separated and showcased her straight, white teeth. Something the both of us
acquired without braces.
She
was saying what Michael Shannon said in Man
of Steel when he threatened to find and kill superman on Earth. It was her
favourite line and I absolutely could not tell you why. She was a weird one.
I
had always wondered what it was like to be inside her head, I assumed it would
be like Alice in Wonderland. Everything made no sense at all but at the same
time made perfect sense. I knew I would definitely see bright colours, weird
animals, and abstract landscape. Whenever I thought about what went through her
mind I instantly regretted it. Knowing it was probably like me being in the
maze in the Triwizard Tournament without having my name picked from the Goblet
of Fire: dangerous and wrong. She really was mad, “entirely bonkers. But I’ll
tell you a secret. All the best people are.” I can only deduce that her mind
was like those two great stories, breathtaking and magical.
Her
projects for school definitely showed that she has a wild imagination. Her one,
hypothetical not actually performed, experiment in grade 9 was “The Affect of
Crayons On Hamsters”. Yes you guessed it, that would mean that the hamsters
would have had to eat crayons.
I
looked back over at her again but she was no longer sitting on the opposite
couch as me. I saw her from the corner of my eye coming back from the kitchen.
“Man
I love food,” she said while eating
off of a plate covered in cut up cheese and crackers. She was dancing
exotically around the TV and I could not help but stare. She stared back at me
for a few seconds before breaking out into a creepy grin, one I could only
describe as the Grinch’s before he said “I know just what to do” and decided to
steal Christmas from the Who’s. I returned the sinister grin for a mere 5 seconds
before I dropped it when she lost interest in me for a yogurt commercial on TV.
She
could never stay too focused for too long and if she absolutely had to, like on
a test or something in school, then you could guarantee she would not be
sitting still. Everyone was born with basic reflexes and I am pretty sure the
Megan was born with a few different ones. She shook her leg, tapped her pencil,
and cracked her knuckles like it was nobodies business. She only ever realized
she did that stuff when someone commented on it or told her to stop.
My
mom walked into the room doing up a bracelet on her wrist.
“Get
ready, we have our friend’s party soon,” she said to us. I looked over at Megan
as she looked over at me; a mischievous glint was present in her eyes before we
both looked back at our mom.
“Our
friend? Could you be anymore vague? Believe it or not we actually have friends
in the plural sense not just one friend.” Megan said with a smile, letting my
mom know she was just messing around with her. Of course that didn’t stop our
mum from rolling her eyes at her.
“Diane,
remember? I told you about this last week. No getting out of it.” She replied
with finality.
“Is
there going to be lots of people there?” I asked, finding my voice.
“Yeah,
I mean you know we don’t really like people. “Socializing”? This term is not
one I enjoy.” Megan added on. I looked over and smirked at her, we were both
pretty awkward when it came to social situations and therefore tried to get out
of many, if not all, of them.
“It
is a party you know, meaning yes,
there will be people there now go get changed” mom snapped, which made us grin
widely before we got off of the couch and went up the stairs to our rooms.
As
we walked up the stairs I could not help but think about what a crazy pair we
were. Megan made up a lot of the crazy as well as cockiness and wit.
I would never
understand how she could be wild yet a “confident in the closet”. She reminded
me of a chameleon; could be absorbed in the surroundings, unique, ever
changing, and unpredictable. I am not going to lie; she was a pretty rad
sister.
Her hair flows in soft waves down her back to her waist. It glistens a warm honey brown in the sunlight, yet a dark chestnut in the moonlight. A knitted beanie covers the back of her head most of the time, letting her bangs fall on her forehead. Her face is round, as smooth as a porcelain doll but naturally tanned like a surfer. Her eyebrows are full and brown, perfectly complimenting her eyes. The copper against honey with flecks of sage glow when they are watery, becoming shades of nature after a storm. But when she is happy, her eyes hold a golden gleam. The navy colour of her hat makes the black on her eyelids and lashes more bold. Her nose is round, marked with a freckle on the left nostril. Her lips look like they are constantly covered with a light red lip stain, her bottom lip being larger than the top. Laughter is what I hear often coming from her mouth. Her teeth are straight and white, almost screaming "look at me." The smooth tone of her voice is either joking or being sarcastic and when she is serious it becomes sharp and dangerous. She always has to be in motion; whether it is shaking her leg, constantly touching things, or playing with her fingers. She is always anxious; jumpy, a confident in the closet", modest and shy. Her clothes reflect her ever-changing personality. One day she wears lip gloss, pale pink pants, and a cream blouse, but the next she is wearing dark red lipstick, skinny jeans, a graphic tee, and converse. She is hard to keep up with. What she thinks about, how would I know? Schoo, gossip, friends, One Direction. I imagine it to be something like the characters from Wonderland: she's mad, "entirely bonkers. But I'll tell you a secret. All the best people are." She confuses me at every corner, but she is my sister so I don't care.
