The life of a sister.

I was three years old when my sister was born. I always remember what happened that day, and I think I will never forget my sister’s birthday. Because she was born on February 14th. There was record heavy snowfall in the days before and after my sister was born, but only the day she was born was perfectly clear. While the adults were busy because of the thick snow on the roads and roofs, I was only worried about whether the snow on the kindergarten playground would melt. Can I still have a snowball fight with my friends? I kneaded the snowball without gloves, thinking to myself. At that time, all I could think about was snow. Even when I came home from school and heard that my sister was born, I would only think "Oh——" and not care at all. At that time, I couldn't understand what a sister was. Even if adults say that my sister and I are related by blood, I can't really understand it. Although I heard that my sister, like me, was born from my mother’s belly, I still don’t understand what it means because I don’t remember what happened when I was in my mother’s belly. There is one more person living in the house. Sooner or later your room will become narrower. At the time, that was all I could understand. I also didn’t go to the hospital to visit my newborn sister because my parents believed that noisy little kids shouldn’t be allowed to cause trouble in the hospital. Six days after my sister was born, my mother took her home from the hospital. It was only then that I finally saw my sister for the first time. Since I saw my father busy making the bed and preparing various things the day before my mother was discharged from the hospital, it was understandable that my sister was finally coming to my house. In this way, I had my first contact with my sister who was held in my mother's arms. My first impression of my sister was that she was "very weak". She is smaller than the babies in kindergarten, has M-shaped baldness and red cheeks. She is as fragile as a newborn puppy, and she seems to understand that she is weak, so she will cry and ask people around her to help her. To put it bluntly, I don’t think my sister and I are the same creature. Overall, my first impression of my sister was not a good one. I was afraid that something would go wrong if I touched her casually, so after a while, I began to consciously avoid her. A few years later, although a little wobbly, my sister was finally able to stand on her own legs and became a creature "similar to me." But by this time, a barrier had formed between my sister and me. Although the barrier is not thick, it is a styrofoam wall that will shatter if touched, but it will completely block the line of sight, making it impossible to see the opponent. Regarding my sister at that age, I only know that she is very afraid of the cold. Maybe it’s because she was born in a day without snow. When she was about three years old, her father and we went sledding in the winter with heavy snowfall. Not long after we played, she immediately started crying and said, “It’s so cold. I want to go back.” Home". Although I didn't say it out loud at the time, what I was thinking was: He is such a tough guy. That is to say, I did not expect at the time that even in the future, that evaluation would never change. Because I don’t know how to treat that guy who is a whole circle smaller than me, and she is closer to her parents than me. When she encounters difficulties, she will immediately cry and ask her parents for help, so there is no room for me to appear. I even There was no chance to say a few words to her. However, except when she shows weakness, my sister doesn't express her own thoughts very much, so this kind of personality is not irrelevant. That's what I always thought. Since I had very little communication with her, I am not sure whether the truth is really what I thought. My parents originally planned to let my sister live in the children's room with me, but because my sister was very attached to my parents, especially my mother, she ended up sleeping with them anyway. I'm glad I still have the room to myself and hope it stays that way. I think that if we lived in the same room, both of us would feel out of breath, and the relationship might become even worse. At that time, my sister and I probably didn’t understand that we were brother and sister. Brothers and sisters should help each other. Although this sentence is not a written rule, at least, this is what my parents hope. Although I felt my parents' expectations for me, I deliberately pretended not to notice it; as for my sister, I think she didn't understand anything. After all, she was still busy living and had no extra time to pay attention to other things. In this way, we grew up without any relationship at all. My sister started to cry to me and tell me things when she was six years old and I was ten years old. It was the end of August, the end of summer vacation. I can feel that the sun is starting to set a little earlier, but compared to that, at this time, the fact that "school is about to start" is even more melancholy. There is obviously so much time like water in a swimming pool, why does it all evaporate without realizing it? The end of summer vacation must be a lie, right? But looking at my arms, my skin does have traces of sunburn. And I can only sigh at the unshakable evidence. Just as I was sitting right in front of the electric fan in that mood, scratching the area bitten by mosquitoes, a faint breath came from behind me. I looked back and saw my sister standing behind me. Although I didn't make a sound, I was actually so shocked inside that I was so surprised that I even forgot the itching sensation of being bitten by a mosquito. The younger sister, who rarely took the initiative to approach, was holding a drawing diary in her hand. "Help me..." As soon as her eyes met mine, she gingerly handed me the diary and whispered. Hearing this request, I had a bad premonition in my heart, and that premonition became a real reality after I inadvertently opened the diary. There is almost no record of this summer in the notebook. Wow - I touched the pages as white as snow and marveled. Not to mention the pictures and text, even the date is completely blank. I looked at my sister through the diary, and she was looking at me with moist eyes. In terms of positional relationship, I was sitting and my sister was standing, so she was looking down at me, but for some reason, I had the illusion that I was looking down on her. This seems to be the first time I discovered that my sister is much younger than me. "summer homework?" I asked, and my sister nodded slightly. I remember writing the same thing when I was in lower grade. For homework like drawing a diary, no matter how many excuses you make, you will be scolded if you don't finish it, and you won't be able to ask your parents for help. I understand why my sister came to me. Except for the first three days, the entire diary was blank, which gave me a solid understanding of the meaning of the phrase "three days to fish, two days to dry the net." I scratched my head in confusion. Although I understood why my sister was crying and looking for me, even if she asked me for help, there was nothing I could do. I don’t even remember how I spent my summer vacation, and I certainly don’t know how my sister spent these days. "What have you been doing all summer?" I didn't mean to blame, I just asked out of curiosity about how my sister spent her summer vacation. Is it because you are addicted to something that you are reluctant to set aside time to write a diary? What I want to ask is this. But to my sister's ears, it might have sounded like she was being scolded, and tears began to well up in her eyes. "Ouch!" I panicked, this was bad. When I saw my sister's mouth twitching and looking like she was about to cry, cold sweat broke out on my back. It would be bad if my mother, who was in another room, heard my sister crying and got scolded for it. I quickly pushed my sister who was about to cry out of the room and left the room. Although the electric fan was still spinning, I didn't have the extra energy to turn it off. "Don't cry, don't cry." After we got to the room on the second floor, I tried my best to comfort my sister, who also sniffed hard and tried not to cry. I sat on the ground with a sigh of relief, and my sister also knelt down and sat down. She is small even when she is standing, but her presence becomes even thinner when she sits down. Maybe it's because she often lowers her head. It feels like a chewing gum wrapper crumpled into a small ball. If you don't pay attention, it will be ignored. I looked at the diary placed between us and my depressed sister. Except for the time when my mother brought her newborn home, this was the first time I looked at my sister. The frailty I felt at that time has not changed, I have only grown a little taller. Her long black hair hung on her cheeks like drooping rabbit ears. Ignoring her words, tears seemed to come out of his eyes immediately. Of course I felt uncomfortable when I saw that look in my eyes, as if even I was feeling depressed. I wanted to escape from the depressing scene, but my body couldn't move. I'm not a particularly responsible person. If it were normal, I would have greased my feet and walked away. Who cares about your life or death? And I still think so. But, I can't do it now. Looking at my sister, I knew that was impossible. why? I don’t know the reason or origin, but—— Can't help her. I feel this way. Should we say that it is an instinctive sense of companionship that living things have? Or is it because we are connected by blood? In short, that kind of thing is engraved in my body like a product serial number, requiring me to help in parts that I cannot change, making it difficult for me to resist. Maybe, once I become aware of that kind of thing, I will have no choice but to become an "older brother". I picked up the drawing journal and read through the first three pages I had written. All those painted in the center of the frame are mothers. The diary written in Hiragana is not easy to read. The diary records what happened at home in a few words. To be precise, it is the household chores that the mother did. Mom did it. Mom did it. It's all the same sentence pattern. And I have no feelings about these things. I wrote this diary for three days in a row. And I appeared in the picture frame the next day, but in the right corner, with half of my face exposed. Although it is difficult to tell from the picture whether that person is me, but I am the only person in the whole family who would be treated so carelessly. There was no mention of me in the diary of that day. It was simply because I happened to appear within my sister’s field of vision, so I just drew it in by the way. This picture is a pretty accurate representation of my relationship with my sister. All parts of the diary were completely meaningless, and it only lasted three days before being discontinued. Since the diary only records things at home, it does not mention any outdoor activities. It feels like I wrote about the same content for three days, and finally I couldn’t continue writing. I took a closer look at my sister. Unlike me, her skin had no traces of sun exposure at all. Does this mean she never goes out? Don't you want to go swimming in the school swimming pool? Saying that, I realize I've never been out with this guy. In this way, the reason why the drawing diary is almost blank may not be because I am lazy and don’t want to write, but because I have no subject matter to write about. "You, don't you have any friends?" I asked boldly. Hearing these words, the corners of my sister's mouth and cheeks twitched again. "Don't cry, don't cry." I comforted her again in a panic. My sister also tried hard to hold back her tears, but her nose still dripped. I took a piece of tissue from the tissue box and wiped her nose. My sister remained motionless and allowed me to do whatever I wanted. Troublesome guy. To be honest, I feel a little bored. However, I also know very well that I cannot leave her alone. "I'll help you." After saying that, my sister immediately raised her head and put away the tears that were hanging in the corners of her eyes. Maybe it's because the hair no longer covers the face and the shadows on the face have become lighter, even the expression is full of vitality. What an understanding guy. However, there is no need to ask for help at such a time when it is almost too late. This time it was me holding my head, which was very nerve-wracking. It is not an easy task to write a diary for nearly forty days in one go. But let me woo! What screamed was the weather bar below the date. Although it is impossible for a teacher to remember the weather every day, if it is integrated with other people's diaries, it will be revealed. Of course I don’t have newspapers from a month ago at home, so I can’t research the information. I thought about it for a while and decided to give up on filling in the weather conditions. "Just randomly draw a smiling face or a crying face on it." Instead, he gave this instruction to his sister. Not everyone likes sunny days, and some people also like rainy days. Because everyone's feelings are different, how my sister felt about the weather that day can be explained in any way she wants. As for the diary part, try to avoid mentioning the weather and just find something to write about. If I write it for her in person, her handwriting will definitely be blurry, and the level of Chinese characters she knows is different from mine. So I let my sister write the diary, and I was responsible for drawing the pictures. Although the brush strokes should not be very similar to the pictures my sister drew three days ago, if I were to do that again, the entire drawing diary would be a fabrication. Then it wouldn't be a diary, but a simple fantasy picture book. However, even if I asked my sister to make up the content at will, she would still just look at me without crying. "There's nothing to write about," I thought to myself as I heard her say it in a weak voice. Sure enough, it was because I had nothing to write about that I didn’t continue writing. "You're just fooling around." I said, but my sister still seemed like she couldn't think of anything to fool around with, her eyes trembled slightly and her nostrils dilated a little. In this case, does it mean that I have to think about the entire diary? I felt like I was about to pass out. I crossed my arms over my chest and stared at the wall. Although the number has decreased, the chirping of cicadas can still be heard at home. "I really can't help it...then, just make up some stories about playing with me." My sister nodded repeatedly and began to wait for me to continue. Does it mean that I have to edit it from the first sentence to the last sentence? This is a more difficult project than imagined. I crossed my legs and my feet were shaking up and down. Being stared at by my sister all the time makes me feel very uncomfortable. I try to buy time. "Let me think about it. You draw the weather first." If it's something of this magnitude, even my younger sister should be able to do it. My sister nodded slightly and started to draw. Quickly draw a smiling face. My sister holds the pen in a very ordinary way, but her hand strength is quite strong, and the smiley lines she draws are quite deep. The wide-open mouth is almost as wide as a Totoro's smile. Next I drew a crying face. The drooping of the corners of her eyes is exactly the same as that of her sister just now. In other words, although I haven't seen it, if my sister smiles, it will actually be similar to that smiling face? My sister, is it okay for a girl to smile like that? I couldn't help but feel distressed. Without further ado. The situation seemed to have evolved to the point where I had to break out the contents of my daily diary and draw pictures. As a result, not to mention today, even tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, and the little remaining summer vacation will be wasted. Only my summer vacation ended early, and I felt like I had suffered a heavy loss. As for my sister, she was drawing emojis smoothly, but probably she was not thinking about anything while drawing. The proof is that she drew a smiley face on today's weather column. It’s really a random drawing. Didn’t you come to me crying to ask for help? I thought to myself dumbfounded. I looked out from the window in the corridor. The sunlight penetrated the thin clouds and grilled the roofs of the houses opposite. Even though summer vacation is over, summer seems to be here to stay. The holidays, which have always been filled with water in a swimming pool, gradually evaporate in every blink of an eye, becoming just like the usual summer vacation. But at the end of this year's summer vacation - although this is a bit exaggerated - a younger sister suddenly appeared. And vice versa. In my sister's mind, this must be the first time she regards me as her "brother", right? Just like the meat in the supermarket freezer is just a commodity for people who don't want to buy meat, but it is a necessary "ingredient" for people who want to make hamburger steaks. Values ​​determine the meaning of things. Something extremely small that was born between my sister and me became the beginning of everything. I stayed with my sister in silence, watching her finish drawing the weather expression. Is this what you call a brother? I feel a little hard to calm down and restless. Also, is this the so-called sister? I stared intently at what was in front of me and thought to myself. Two weeks after summer vacation ended, my sister was still sitting in my room. This room has been transformed from my personal room into a children's room, so it is natural for my sister to sit here. When I got home after the opening ceremony, my sister's desk and bed had been moved into the room, and I didn't even have a chance to object. Was it the parents who enforced it? Or does my sister also agree? The truth is unknown. In any case, there is no room for me to express my opinion on this matter. Basically, my sister is given priority at home, and I am put in the back seat. But I don't think it's unfair. Because my sister is a much more troublesome person than me. I've figured this out. I think of the hard work I put into drawing my journal. It took me about three days to sort out the diary of the entire summer vacation. By the end, even I had a vague memory of those days because I was racking my brains to think of the subject matter. After all, my sister's skin is so fair that she cannot participate in any outdoor activities, such as swimming, so the topics that can be broken are naturally limited to indoors, and furthermore, limited to the home. I had to do one activity at home every day, and I also had to draw pictures... By the end of it, I was almost mentally exhausted. Fortunately, until now, my sister's tutor has not been angry about my sister's diary, so he must have gotten through it smoothly, right? If even the diary that I wrote with so much painstaking efforts made the teacher angry, I would probably want to cry too. After coming back from school, my sister put her schoolbag on the table and sat on the chair in a daze without doing anything. Since I started to look at my sister, I finally discovered that her sitting posture is very strange: her legs are close together, huddled on the chair in a hill-shaped shape; her hands are wrapped around her knees, and her palms are inserted between the chair surface and the soles of her feet. As long as the palm moves, the body will slightly rock back and forth. Much like the travel souvenir tumblers I received from other people. My sister noticed my gaze and turned her head: "What's wrong—brother—?" No matter how many times I listen to it, I feel itchy at the base of my ears. "Yeah - it's okay." I responded vaguely, leaning my elbows on the table and leaning on my cheeks. Ever since I helped my sister with her summer homework, she started calling me that. Before that, don't say how to call me, we didn't even say a few words. Compared with then, the interaction now is more like that of brother and sister. More like, brother and sister. Since my parents looked relieved after seeing our interaction, I thought this was the type of brother and sister they expected. I can only use this as the basis for judgment. However, we just became "brother——" and "sister", not companions who played together. Even though we live in the same room, we still don't talk much. To me, my sister is like a huge bubble floating in mid-air. In other words, it is a foreign object. Soft, moist, but heterogeneous. My sister was still in a daze, looking like a marine iguana basking in the sun. She felt defenseless, which made people more and more worried. It should be said that I was afraid that her organs above the neck were not moving. I would be in trouble if you ask me for help with homework again. I asked tentatively: "Don't you do your homework?" "I'll write it later." She looked at me and said. I didn't help with any summer homework other than the drawing diary, but my sister's tutor didn't seem to get angry because of it, saying that all the other homework should have been completed obediently, and she wasn't just a lazy kid who didn't do her homework. This gives me some peace of mind. But if this continues, the same mistake may happen again next summer. Our school stipulates that first and second grade students must keep drawing diaries during the summer vacation. I have a feeling that this will be inevitable. Looking at my sister's leisurely look, it seems impossible to expect her to grow into a diligent child who can write a diary automatically and spontaneously in just one year. I looked at my sister's profile and then at the clock. The sound of the hands moving is louder than the sound we make. There is still some time before dinner is served, so I plan to finish my homework first. Although I don’t have anything scheduled to do tonight, it would definitely feel disgusting if something I wanted to do suddenly appeared but I couldn’t do it because I hadn’t finished my homework yet. I'm just a person who doesn't think much about small things like this. However, many adults mistakenly thought that I was a serious and responsible child, which made my evaluation among adults surprisingly not bad. Although it was a misunderstanding, there was no need to change their minds because it was overestimated. Anyway, in terms of results, I always finish my homework early, that’s true. I started writing Chinese exercises. My sister, who was in a daze, also faced the table, put her feet down, straightened her back, and changed to a normal sitting posture. Then she took out the blue math homework book from the schoolbag that was thrown on the table and started to write her homework. The way you hold the pen is still the same, so the pen pressure should be very strong. I looked sideways at my sister writing and thought to myself. "Don't you have to write it later?" "I'm learning from my brother——" My sister replied without looking away from her homework book. I thought for a moment about what she was talking about. "Why?" "Because my brother is very good at writing diaries." My sister's answer was quite brief and lacked explanation, but it was still clear from her answer that she herself had reflected on the diary. In order to be able to write a whole diary like me, I started to imitate me. But what I wrote is more of a picture book creation than a diary. Good children cannot learn. "I think it would be possible to write it down if my brother's degree increases." Is that Xiamidongdong? There seems to be a standard of measurement in my sister's heart that I have never heard of before, but when she suddenly said it, I just didn't know how to react. Having said that, what should a younger sister do to improve her elder brother's degree? For something like a sister, shouldn’t the sister’s degree be improved? Although I don't understand my sister's thoughts, she has ideas to improve herself. Working hard to overcome failure or achieve something you couldn't do otherwise is a very positive attitude and worthy of encouragement. Although I thought so, I felt that the direction of her efforts was not quite right. Forget it, since you are imitating me and finishing your homework early, it shouldn't be a bad thing. After writing the exercises for a while, I got up to go to the toilet. My sister also raised her face, stood up and walked behind me. No way? As I was thinking about it, my sister really followed me and imitated her walking style. "I don't think there's any point in doing this?" "Do it first and then talk about it." My sister replied, her body still imitating my actions. Her eyes were looking straight at me, should I say she was moving? Or stubborn? Or is it impulsive and reckless? Which one is it? I became troubled. We went downstairs one after another. My sister originally wanted to follow her into the toilet, but I blocked her out. After using the toilet, my sister imitated me and washed her hands together. "There's no point in doing this, right?" "It's so cold. It's so comfortable." My sister's mood rose like a splash of water. It didn't matter, but the way of wiping her hands was too casual, so I had to grab her hand and help her dry the water. My mother happened to pass by at this time, and when she saw our interaction, I felt like my eyelashes were so heavy that my eyelids were about to be pulled down. This is what is called embarrassment. perhaps. We return to the second floor. After a while, my sister, who had finished writing the math problems, said to me: "Brother - I want to read the text, you come and listen." She walked towards me holding a Chinese textbook and reading cards. "Oh, Chinese homework? Okay." In the past, I seemed to have read aloud to my mother, but today it seems that even I can do it. My sister sat in the center of the room, directly under the lamp, and I sat across from her. After she opened the textbook, she remained still for a long time. "What's wrong?" "Brother—you read it first." She said, handing the textbook towards me. Why? I realized before asking.