By Mikenna Doyle
Simply put, my sister is the worst because she is the best. Everything she does is picture perfect: literally. Being stuck as the “baby” in the family, I get no respect and she gets everything she wants. Her face and her sweet nature makes people cave into telling her all their secrets, giving her anything her heart desires, and most importantly, listening to her. I am always the one having to clean the house and get a job, but for her, she gets to go off into the world to be a fashion designer and woo people even more!
People say I am crazy for hating my sister. In theory, my sister is nice to me in the way that she does not disrespect me and buys me birthday presents. But I hate her because she never gives me the one thing that I need from her: love. She is always too busy taking over the world with her gentle nature and beauty. Sometimes I think about her in the fact that she is a river: sweet, gentle, and beautiful but violent, strong, and hard to deal with at times. Rivers, as the people in my village know, are not compatible with any other force of nature. Even small fish, like me, get tossed aside.
I am a dedicated photographer, and in being one, I have the skills to see things that others cannot. As the creator of all of my photos, I come to understand what gives balance to a picture. My specialty is using subjects to create balance to the world around them. In my mind, my sister (no matter how beautiful yet gentle she looks) will always be too self-centered and too obvious of a subject. I am done being the background of my sister’s subject, so I decide to confront her.
I walk outside in our large backyard and spot my sister sitting under an old oak tree that has been in my family for generations. Perfect! A nostalgic place to make her feel guilty about ruining my life!
“We need to talk,” I said, as I seated myself on the grass beside her. She looked puzzled by this demand, but I didn’t let that stop me. “Listen. I am sick of being your non-existent little sister. I always feel like you are the only one being seen instead of me. While I am frequently jealous of everyone obsessing over you, I am more jealous of your big heart that keeps holding back from loving me like a sister. All I want is to spend time with you. You are a beautiful and strong river, but you must remember to share room with the fish,” I said. A single salty tear streamed down my face. She embraced me as she started to cry, too.
As the week continued on, she seemed to show a change happening within herself. My sister started to give me credit, complimented me, and set aside time to sit by the old oak tree together to talk. She continued to show her peacefulness and allowed me to show my creative and loving personality. Together, we finally shared a strong sisterly bond with each other that I needed. Later that week, I found her sitting in an umbrella out on the lake behind our house. Darting behind our tree so that she would not notice me, I captured the picture on my camera. Out of the millions of pictures on Instagram or Snapchat, this was the best photo of her. I want to remember the sister I love like she is in this photo: a river with the fish.
