"I grew up in a small town in rural Massachusetts, but I'm sure you all know that from the news. My parents split up when I was 9, and few months later, when I was 10, my little sister, Emma, was born. My dad booked on us, bailed on the child support and went off somewhere in Europe with some ill-gotten gains. I never found out where he got the money, but whenever I'd ask my ma' all she'd say was that it wasn't above the level. I don't know if she was just angry and bitter, or if that really was the way things were.
I guess it would explain him fleeing the country, but my dad wasn't a bad man, whatever it seems, and I always thought he would've sent some money back if he was so loaded. If not for me and my ma', at least for Emma, y'know?" I paused, it'd been a long time since I'd thought about those things, and even longer since I'd shared them. But, again, that same eerie ease that I felt around those people helped me keep on going.
I took another sip of water. "So, anyways, there we were, living alone."

"I woke up that morning, I was 18, and it was like any other day. Birds were chirping outside, and summer was just starting. I was out of school, done. Emma's school got out a few days later than mine, so I was gonna drive her. I was up early, ready to go when I would have had to, but she didn't have to leave for a few hours. I sat at the round table in the kitchen, eating cheerios with a glass of milk, doing nothing in particular. The lights were out, but the sun was up. It was shining so bright that I thought I was going get a tan in kitchen. I tapped out the beat of song I'd had stuck in my head as I finished off the cereal. I drank the milk out of the bowl, and by the time I was putting it in the sink, I was humming. It was a brilliant day, and I was free.
I put the milk carton back in the fridge, the door's seal creaking loudly as I opened it. I put it in and walked out into our yard. Money was pretty tight, but my dad had finished paying off mortgage when I was 5, so we had some breathing room. The trees swayed slightly in the light breeze, dancing against the clear blue sky.
I started tapping the beat out again, despite myself. I was excited. We were going on a road trip as soon as Emma finished school, in a few days. It was going to be our first vacation in a while, and we were all looking forward to it. I stood there for a bit, just taking it all in. I must have been out longer than I thought, because when I walked back through the kitchen, there was Emma, having a bowl of Cheerios and a glass of milk. I paused at the door and smiled, watching her read the back of the cereal box." I paused, fighting hard to hold back the tears. It hadn't gotten any easier.
"She was 9, then. Her shoulder-length blonde hair was glowing in the morning sun. Mom was a brunette, so she must've gotten that from dad, but I never thought of that much. I tried to think about him as little as possible. I didn't want her to be tainted by him. She was just perfect, y'know? She was my little sister, and I loved her. I love her. We were 10 years apart, but we were still close as heck." I choked down a sob, avoiding eye contact with everyone there. Cracked old tiles lined the floor.
"I went over and sat down next to her, poured myself another glass of milk, and we both smiled. I gulped it down. When I put the glass down on the table, she broke out in giggles. 'What're you laughing at?' I asked her, playfully. She didn't say anything, she just kept on giggling. I gave up on trying to reason with her and started tickling her, chasing her around the room, and then the whole house. We both ended up plopped down on the couch, exhausted. I wiped the sweat of my face and when I looked at it, there was some white on it. I'd had a milk mustache. Emma saw me do this, and she broke out giggling again.
I even giggled. Just seeing her smile made me happy, and I could barely contain myself. I glanced at my watch, and realized we were close to running late. I told her that if she went and got her stuff ready, I'd clean up breakfast. I was washing the dishes and she came down, all ready, wearing her blue Transformers backpack." I smiled a little bit, despite my self. "With a brother like me, I suppose it's not much a surprise she ended up being a bit of a tom-boy, y'know, liking all the cool stuff. And it doesn't get much cooler than Optimus Prime.
I turned on the dishwasher and grabbed my keys off the counter. Emma rushed out and was buckled into her seat before I'd even made it to the car. She was excited for the summer, too. We drove with all the windows open, wind blowing through our hair, radio blaring. We were there before we knew it. She leaned over and hugged me; I tussled her hair and smiled. She smiled back and jumped out of the car. She ran to the school, giggling and grinning with all her friends. She paused and the door and turned back to me. She waved, and then she was gone.