HUNGRY HEART, THIN HOPE
By: Sofia Storey
My sister likes to pick me up and put me on her lap and say, “You are the most beautiful girl in the world” I like when she says that too.
Kara used to smile a lot, and laugh; she laughed so hard that her curly, almond-colored hair covered her round eyes. My sister doesn’t laugh as much anymore. She doesn’t make funny faces across the table through her Mac’n Cheese; she said she was too old to be eating it anymore, she ate vegetables instead. Kara never liked vegetables.
I’d never understand when she'd walk out of her room after dinner, hair covering her puffy eyes; only this time, it was a different kind of cover. Intentional. My sister hugged me and it was different. Her back was pokey, wrists smaller, and her arms were fuzzier than normal.
I watched her wear down. I said she looked tired; she said it was school. I said she looked sad; she said I was wrong. I said she was acting weird; she said that's just part of growing up. And I believed her.
One night, when I was leaving the bathroom, I walked by Kara’́s room and heard her crying. Slowly, I peeked through the door and whispered, “Kara, what's wrong?”
She wiped her eyes quickly and smiled, “Nothing's wrong.”
“Can I help?” I responded.
“No. there’s nothing you can do.”
I looked up at her hurt, round eyes, and did the only thing I knew how.
I crawled into her lap, gave her a big hug, and said, “You are the most beautiful girl in the world”.