2. The Decision
I'd mulled over what to do for some time and, reluctantly, told my mum. She seemed encouraging of me seeing my sister. Although it was a positive response, in a way, it was not the response that I wished to hear. Maybe I'm scared of how different we might be. Maybe I'm scared of seeing someone who I'm related to but haven't seen for years. Maybe I'm just scared.
Finally, I decided.
I was going to meet my sister.
I ran around the house frantically, trying to find a decent pair of clothes that I hadn't already worn and carelessly discarded onto the floor without washing them. Why is it when you urgently need to find something to wear there is absolutely nothing?
I sighed and finally found a pair of ripped black jeans, a faded grey t-shirt emblazoned with a red skull and a hoodie. Painfully, I yanked my hairbrush through my unruly brown curls; swearing under my breath when encountering a ridiculously large knot; rimmed my hazel eyes with my usual heavy black eyeliner; pulled on my converse that were practically falling apart at the seams and tucked my phone into my back pocket.
Today was the day.
We'd arranged to meet at a shopping centre in a city half way between where we both lived- so as to make the travelling time as equal as possible- at 12:00pm. At first I was excited but my initial excitement had been completely eradicated with a jolt of nerves. What if it went wrong? What if she didn't like me? But it was too late for second thoughts, my mum was already calling me to come downstairs and get in the car otherwise we'd be late. Taking a steadying breath, I opened my door and walked out into the unknown.