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A Sisterhood of Stranger My mother died from renal cancer when I was eight years old; my younger sister, Mari, was five. People might think that a tragedy like this would bring the two of us closer together; however, the opposite happened. It took twenty-seven years and 1,800 miles before we realized how much we needed each other. After our mother’s death, Mari and I spent a lot of time alone together while my father worked two jobs to support us. This physical closeness was the only thing we had in common. We were different in every other respect. I was older; she was younger. I was strong; she was weak. I led; she followed. She trusted everyone; I trusted no one. As a young girl, my biggest joy in life came from preying on Mari’s naiveté. I reveled in my ability to persuade her to play “Amusement Park” with me, promising that this time I wouldn’t tie her to the chair and leave her in the dark closet.
Approximate Word count = 664
Approximate Pages = 2.7
(250 words per page double spaced)
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