Puny words

We spent the better part of the day half-flirting in the ice cream parlor then went home. What I meant by half-flirting, I won't tell. Let your mind run wild, but not too wild, we are still children.

But we are Gen Z children.

Anyway, by the time we got home, I'd totally forgot about Emma slut-shaming me and made no effort to remember it.

And I didn't remember anything, at least until one certain moment of dinner.

"So, what happened with your sister earlier Em? She wouldn't tell us anything about it," Miria asked me through her ladylike bite of the baked chicken we were served that night.

I sat frozen for a second, everything from the day before came flooding in.

"Ma, don't she's-"

"No, it's fine, I'll tell her," You know how you sound when you're absolutely broken inside but are trying to convince people you're fine, airy, I guess, well, that's how I sounded.

I cleared my throat before I began.

"She told me how she felt about me and that she needed a little more attention," I stated.

"Why was she yelling? She sounded furious," Miria urged.

"She," I paused, not being able to find the right words to say without making Emma seem like a bad person, but should I? I mean, she's the one who said all that stuff, not me. Why was I defending her? Blood. That's why. I can't imagine my little sister hating me, I could never imagine it. And I don't want her to hate me forever, but still, I deserve a little justice.

"She was angry because she thinks I'm better than her. She said I have the better name, the longer hair, the lighter skin, and now I have a chance at a better lifestyle, the one that was meant for her." The dining room was dead silent after I admitted that. You could've heard a feather drop.

"I'm sure she didn't mean it, younger kids are sometimes desperate for attention and say some out-of-place things to get it." Miria said lightly and went back to her meal.

I guess the way I worded it made it not as bad as it was, and honestly, I was grateful that I did that.

Little sisters get jealous all the time, this was probably just one of those large surges of jealousy that slipped.

I mean, sure, she looked genuine but in the throes of passion, (not that kind) but most people do.

The only person who made me cry was me, I let those words slip into my head and turn into something far more powerful than they were.

And, even though I didn't want to accept I let some puny words get to me, I didn't want to accept that maybe my sister hated me, so I scolded myself for letting words get to me.

That night, sleep came easy, but it also came with a million interruptions.

Once, I was dreaming of whatever I dreamt about and woke up to find my head pushed off the bed, so I grabbed my pillow, put it on the edge of the bed, and slept like that.

I went back to my dream of course.

Then, I woke up but I thought I was still dreaming. I said this was the most boring dream I'd ever had but then when I heard I hadn't said it in my head I realized I was awake but seconds later I was asleep.

I think.

Then, I remember I was having a dream where this weird man was talking to me and then I just woke up. I grumbled to myself then turned over in bed and went back to sleep.

The next time I woke up I was on the other side of the bed. I got frustrated and said f it and went to sleep on my desk with a tiny pillow and a blanket. That didn't help much either, I kept waking up and going back to sleep over there too so I went back to the bed.

I tried to fall asleep under the covers but it felt too hot to be under so I tore it off. Then it felt too cold without it so I put one leg and arm under the cover and left one arm and one leg out.

That worked until I went to sleep, but when I woke up again, half of me was freezing, the other half burning.

I said f that too and threw the whole sheet off the bed and grabbed the blanket.

It made my body temperature just right but I still couldn't go to sleep.

I thought I'd try something since mom and I are pretty big (She's 5 foot something and I'm 5 foot something) I always slept at the bottom of the bed.

It'd never bothered me but sleeping at the top started to get to me after a while.

I took the tiny pillow I tried to sleep with at my desk and crawled to the foot of the bed where I instantly went to sleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

The next time I woke up, it was morning.

I was happy this wasn't another interruption and I went into my closet to find something nice.

Honestly, I didn't feel like doing anything, but who doesn't feel like that on a Monday? I brushed my teeth, washed my face, then cleaned my glasses.

I decided I could be a little lazy with my outfit by wearing a pink silk tank top under a mesh off-the-shoulder top (they were together on the hanger so I just assumed they went together) and some jeans and forces.

Forces are the easy answer to outfit dilemmas.

My hair still looked fine from yesterday so I puffed it out some, sprayed it, and put the sedimentary rock-like headband on with tiny silver heart earrings.

There. Done.

I made my way back into my room to see Jessie walking in, on time per usual.

"Good morning Miss Em," Jessie greeted.

"Good morning Jessie," I waved and smiled.

Then I left my room to join John and Miria for breakfast, King hadn't gotten down yet.