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by M.L. Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Assignment · Personal · #1960314
We were supposed to write a memoir.
         Diane Loh          ENGLISH          Gr9B

Goodbye, Again


So what: You never know how much a person can mean to you.

         I began to panic as the realization hit me. My sister is leaving today. My dear sister. Leaving. Today. Singapore. My heart raced - mixed feelings tangled as my vision suddenly blurred. I started tearing up at the idea that my sister isn't going to be in the house I set foot in everyday. "Muylin!" My mother's yelling interrupted my train of thought. I darted down the flight of stairs. "Muylin, get down here!"





         It was a warm Saturday morning; everyone in the strong house woke up with a determination of a good day. As for me, I got up with a tightening grasp inside my guts. I knew exactly what it meant - it was the anxious feeling of awareness of how my sister would leave, once again, for high school. What terrified me most of all, was how I knew I would not be able to find anything to substitute the hole in my heart, which is shaped as an empty room. As the clock keeps ticking, I know, in just a few hours, I'd have to say goodbye. I stepped outside my room, she was frantically running around the hallways of the worn out wood panes, a smile crept on her face as doing so.





         The grasp tightened even more - she was happy about leaving Cambodia, leaving the house she grew up in, and also, leaving me. I didn't want her to visit ever so frequently, because it appeared to be so woefully difficult when she leaves, I can never really fill the hole in my heart. I was only eight, and I didn't want to see her go into the airport once again.





         I wished that she would be able to bring me with her. I did not want to stay in Cambodia any longer - she was the one who was there to listen to all my problems and rants. Whenever my mother has scolded me or gave me a 2-hour long lecture, she would be there, comforting me with her embracing hugs, which makes me lose track of all my worries and fears and just present me with a warm feeling. As I was caught in a train of thoughts, I found myself in the family car - the engines roared like a majestic lion when started.

         

         I will always remember that night my mind wouldn't go to sleep, how my eyes are wide open with my ears attentive to all the surrounding noise. I would nudge her, hoping it would awaken her in her deep slumber.





"Yeah?" she groaned.

"I can't sleep," I whispered, "its 2:37 AM and I still can't fall asleep."

She yawned like a worn-out lion, "Just try your best to sleep. Count to 100, like I do. If you still can't fall asleep by then, just count even further."

"I can't." I stammered.

"Listen," she advised, "you are bound to fall asleep eventually. Just do what I do and count sheep or just the numerals - whatever works for you. 'Night, bye!"



         I was filled with frustration, as I did not long for the feeling of loneliness. If she had fallen asleep, that would leave me struggling and exhausted by myself. And that was a state I would never want to be in. Throughout my childhood, my desire was to be alone - but I would never yearn for the feeling of being lonely.





         There was this one rainy evening, when I was slightly more grown up. She burst into my room with her eyes wide open, filled with anticipation.





"Dude, it's raining!" she shrieked.

We examined one another's facial expression. It was at that moment we knew we were having the exact same thoughts.

         "YOU WANT TO GO UP THE BALCONY AND PLAY IN THE RAIN A LITTLE?" I squealed.

         "Sure! Hold on, let me change my clothes."

         "Alright, bring some towels too. I'll meet you upstairs."





         Once I have darted upstairs. I gazed at the sheets of rain slicing the soggy air into bits. The storm is a banshee, while the dark sky looked like ink spilled from a bottle. I was petrified. I then heard heavy footsteps and turned back.

"Why are you still standing here all dry?" She asked, with her signature-raised eyebrow. I could only discreetly hear her voice.

I nodded my head in the direction of where the rain is pouring.

         "So?" She boomed and dashed into the water.





         She slid right into the rain and I've realized at that moment, I've never seen her so filled with glee and I've definitely never seen anyone so carefree and beatific. I followed her into the stinging rain and the chill August winds blew through me. The raindrops pierced on my skin. My sister exclaimed, "I haven't done this in so long!" And splashed me with biting rainwater. We spent the next 40 minutes in the rain. Though I was chilled to the bone, I felt elated.





         "Boy, your lips are all purple now. Look at your face, dude, pale as snow. No, even paler than slow, actually. Your fingers are also all wrinkled. Let's go back down and take hot baths." She uttered. "I'll see you later, bye!"





         I watched as she trotted off, but stayed in the storm for a few minutes longer. That was the day I sought to find the beauty of the rain.





         The engines stopped roaring. I gazed out the window and had realized we've arrived at the airport. I kept my eye on her as she stepped onto the elevator and knew that that was the last I'm going to see of her until the next year comes. Tears were coming - next thing I knew, I was teary-eyed with my head hung low. A string of thoughts followed whether she would miss me or even think of me even once. At the top of the elevator, she waved enthusiastically at us and pulled her phone out and started typing. My phone vibrated and as I pulled it out to check the notification, she was already out of sight.





"I'll miss you and I love you. Goodbye", it read.



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