The Scratch On Her Knee

It was Saturday and we were at our farmhouse. It's not my most favourite place in the world, but I didn't mind going there once in a while. It's just that there was nothing to do there except stare at the beautiful surroundings, which, if you look at it, isn't that bad I guess. It just didn't appeal to me as much as it did to my parents. Don't take me wrong, I think this whole farmhouse idea is brilliant and it will definitely be fun to go and live there, but I preferred the city somehow.

Anyways, it had been an hour since we had arrived and my mood wasn't better. It had nothing to do with the gloomy air and the boring afternoon I had had. In fact, I was in a pretty nonchalant mood if it wasn't for my sister.

My sister isn't exactly an angel. In fact, she's a regular little princess, as far as sisters go. Sweet and pure on the outside. not so sweet and not so pure on the inside. And she had the usual sisterly knack of annoying me. In the afternoon she threw a huge tantrum because she did not get her way. And now she was occupying herself with following me everywhere, copying my every move squeezing in the same chair I decided to sit on. She went so far as to stick her hands in her pocket, leaning slightly backwards and waddling around the house, stepping wherever I was and tripping over what I did. If I say so myself, I handled it well, didn't complain or didn't get annoyed for that matter.

I was getting really bored here and it didn't look like we were going to leave anytime soon so I took to sitting in our luxurious and AC-filled car reading a nice book and nibbling half-heatedly on some cold, soggy fries. I was doing fine in there, really, I was, until my sister started banging the door. I tossed my book aside and opened the car door, peaking out irritably. Apparently she had lost interest in playing hide and seek with our driver and had suddenly remembered that she was supposed to annoy me by deliberately following my around when I decidedly told her not to.

I settled back comfortably, if not a little moodily than before and resumed my reading. I had only got a few sentences ahead when my sister started pestering me with a hundred question until i told her to keep quiet for a while. At which she replied that she had to go to the bathroom.

My natural response was to groan loudly and tell her to wait. But she was persistent, whined that she had to go really badly and screamed when I sarcastically told her to wet her pants then. Quite nettled by now, but still having not last my temper yet, I dragged her to my mother and father and told them sullenly that she needed to go. They laughed a bit and said that we were going to the guesthouse anyways.

Seriously, she either waits till the last minute or else she was lying about wanting to go badly. When I pointed this out to my parents, they replied that I used to do the same. This didn't help my mood. I climbed the steps two at a time and leaped back into the car. A moment later, there was a loud tap outside the door. I stepped out and looked around, catching sight of my mother. Take her to the bathroom, she said. We have some work to do.

After the events of the days, I swear, this was the last straw. I can only control my anger to a certain extent. I stormed over to my sister, barked at her to hurry up, and stomped up the road, seething. The walk to the bathroom took five minutes, but I had already gone there once. I refused to hold her hand in anger and this didn't seem to bother her. That annoyed me even more. We walked up the road, a sweet little girl skipping merrily along, her wretched older sister storming ahead of her.

I wasn't very gentle with her as I dragged her into the bathroom, slamming the door shut. I didn't stop glaring at her the whole time and when she was done, I washed her hands quickly and rampaged out the stall.

I walked down the side of the road sullenly, with my sister on my left away from the road, and I was still refusing to hold her hand. Occasionally I nudged her a little to the side when a car started coming, but that was all. By this time, my anger had come down replaced by a cold, gloomy pit in my stomach. I started to cross the road, calling to my sister to cross as well. Something in my mind told me to go over there and drag her aside, but I ignored it and told her once again to come to the side of the road, this time, a little sharply. She, being the sister she is, didn't listen.

Suddenly, in the distance, I heard the rushing sound of an oncoming car. Time seemed to stop. My heart stopped with it. I whirled around, my mind had gone blank for a split second, and the only thought that crossed my mind was I have to get her to the side! I watched, almost in horror, as the car sped around the bend and my sister, skipping happily right in the middle of its path. I screamed loudly, yelling at her to come to the side, half starting in her direction myself, my voice touched with panic.

My sister's eyes went wide. She half realised what was going on and made panicky move towards me, stumbling as she ran blindly. She seemed to be driven forward by instinct and fear more than reason. She stumbled and fell a few feet away from me just as the car passed the spot where she had been not even a second ago. I forgot all sense of time, place and even my previous anger and threw my arms around my sister, who was now sobbing from the bruises on her hands and knees but mainly from her sudden fright.

The next few hours went in a blur. My sister didn't seem fazed that she had nearly been run over by a car, but was more concerned by the fact that she had fallen. I was thankful either way. She didn't mention the car, it was, I guess, her way of saying its ok, I know how horrible you feel. My behaviour towards her for the next few hours changed from mild annoyance to outright affection. My parents didn't say anything, only raised their eyebrows. But only for a few hours, mind you. After that, everything was back to normal and my and my sister were squabbling once more.

But I can never forget that incident, its like a scar on my knee of life. Near death occurrences are God's way of reminding you how much you really love someone, and how much you'd miss them, no matter how much they annoy you. I shudder to think of what would have happened if she had not moved in time and how I would have lived life knowing that maybe, if I had been less angry and just held her hand, she would still be here. Sure, me and my sister fight, we annoy each other, we do all of that. But at the end of the day, I thank God with all my heart that my little sister had scraped her knee because really, I think a scraped knee is a flimsy price to pay, for your life.