Day 4 – I forgive you, sister.


Day 4 – Something you have to forgive someone for

Again with that preposition. Eek.

When Bella and I were in high school, she decided to throw a party at our dad’s house (he was out-of-town). At the time, she had just turned 17 and I was a month away from 16. Problem? I couldn’t drive and I was stuck at the house. She’d had a party the previous year that resulted in a phone call from the county cops to our mom. I was not interested in being in on the next cop-parent conversation.

However, most of my friends were busy that weekend (or without a vehicle), so I was stuck in party-central, knowing that I’d be unfairly accused of participating in the festivities.

To make matters worse, one of her dip-shit friends decided he wanted his girlfriend to blow him in my bedroom (they were seniors. I had no idea what that meant at the time). Luckily, I was staying home on Friday night so my bed stayed semi-clean, as nobody tried to get in while I was there.

Regardless of that, I was totally pissed about the entire situation and knew that when she had the REAL party on Saturday, I didn’t want to be around.

When Bella and I were younger, we used to get into knock-down, ‘bloody knuckle’ fights. Like most girls, we are far more verbal/mental than physical so, as we aged we began screaming at each other about our vulnerabilities/skewed body images as opposed to physically harming each other…except that one time I gave her a black eye via coloring book toss.

Saturday rolled around and I was ready to get the hell out of the house. Unfortunately, Bella refused to take me to my friend Ellen’s and it was too cold to walk. Not wanting to be stranded, I did what any extremely intelligent 15-year-old would do; I stole Bella’s vehicle.

So…why do I need to forgive her?

In her attempt to get back at me, she pulled one of the most brilliant pranks/stunts I’ve ever seen (she is my sister, after all).

My sister knew that she couldn’t rat me out because I’d turn around and announce her party. Bella, furious because she caught me trying to sneak the car back into the garage, waited until I left the house again. Upon finding my room abandoned, she took EVERY piece of clothing I owned out of my closet, my drawers, off of my floor, and out of the laundry room…every where. She then bagged the clothes and filled her small Honda Civic with my wardrobe.

I didn’t see her for almost 48 hours and we weren’t fortunate enough to have cell phones at the time. Bella left me with only the skanky clothing I was wearing at the moment. And I wore those skanky clothes for two full days, until my dad finally got a hold of her and forced her to come home to provide me with my clothing. Is there anything worse than wearing the same outfit for 48 hours when you’re an almost-16 year old girl? Negative.

Honestly, I’m still upset that she out-smarted me…and when that story is told, I still get a little red in the face because I’m mad about it. Which is ridiculous because it’s hysterical. So, sometimes I’ll get all ass-hurt when someone brings it up because I don’t like to lose games.

Bella, I forgive you for winning the battle of the car/clothes. Bravo, sister. Thank God we don’t live close to each other now. Something tells me we’d still be fighting over clothes.

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