I guarded these memories, promising myself I would never let them go. Memories played through my mind. Our straight, black hair, inherited from our mom, stuck to the carpet staticy after rubbing it on the ground laughing. Our dark eyes gleamed and twinkled with joy. Tanned faces creased with lines of smile from running in the sun, rays hugging my body, giving warmth. Apparently we both got that from our father, the love for running. My mom walked in as my deep thought bubble burst. I sat up immediately going back to doing my homework. Waiting for the right time.

Night falls. The wind whistled through the beautiful cherry tree outside my window as I closed my light, enjoying the moonlight shining through the leaves, leaving behind shadows on my bed. My parents were getting ready to turn for the night. I opened my sister’s door slowly, sat on her bed, and asked her what she would like to eat. I always made a midnight snack when she was late night studying knowing she would need a boost to stay awake for the night. As I brought up a hot cup of instant cup noodles with a tall glass of water I asked her, “Hey, do you remember that time when you fell into that mound of poo of who knows what when we were racing each other to the exit and I almost died laughing?” I looked at her, but her expression changed into one that was full of curiosity. As I brought up another as she slurped up few strands of noodles, “ or that time you tricked me into taking that big ugly hello kitty stuffed animal when you wanted the small cute stuffed animal for yourself?”, I expected all those possibilities - forgetting her memories or perhaps pretending to forget them- to be fake. However all those questions were answered when she looked at me with a straight face, took a big sip of water before giving me an answer I wasn’t expecting, “No. I don’t know what your talking about.” I pretended to shrug it off and went into my room before tears could fall from my eyes.

As tears slip down my face into my dry thirsty mouth, onto my fluffy blanket, and making clumps of hair stick together on my face, I wondered if I ever mattered to my sister. If she never remembered all those good times we had together, what would become of that me inside my sister? She might remember me as a bad sister, because we had fights over the smallest things, when I actually cared for her. As I questioned my thinking, I slowly fell asleep.

I heard the garage door close. Knowing my sister left for violin class, I got up from my comfy bed slowly and walked into my sister’s room. Faint light flowed through her windows, lighting the room as if it was dark and creepy. Her shelf was filled with memories she doesn’t even remember. The comb I got her from Hong Kong was used with hair stuck between the teeth, the fluffy pillow-like shoulder-rest mom and I made for her sat unused with layers of dust piled on tops, and piles of candy wrappers from nights before littered her desk around her homework.  So many things that can bring back memories. How come it doesn’t do the same for my sister as it did for me? These days she’s so busy studying for the SAT and whatever “double ECS” is. I guess she doesn’t have any time for family.

As time passed we slowly grew farther and farther apart. “Family time” was always skipped because mom was always on her karaoke app, dad was always doing work, and Christina was always on her computer. I wonder how busy she would be in senior year of high school, maybe she wouldn’t even take a few glances at how my life has been like she does now. Whenever these memories were remembered, they did not bring tears of happiness, but cries of sadness. I threw them down into a void hoping they would never bring me that experience of pain again.