Sisterhood Stinks!

I had to write a short story for my short story class...thought I would leave you with it until I return as a DELUCIA! *Sorry the formatting changed, I don't want to re-type it*

Sister sister,

Even though I'm glad to be with ya

I gotta feel what's real for me,

Like you got to do what's right for you

Sister, sister sister,oh

Sister sister!

-Sister Sister Theme Song – Nickelodeon

A bright blue sky greeted you as you walked in, four birdhouses hung in counter balance to one another with a white picket fence below. The overarching yellow sunflowers looked down upon you with love. This was the fateful place.

Pellets flew through the air; a duck and cover mission was underway, anything to avoid being hit. The missiles belonged to my youngest sister, who unfortunately for me was on the side of the older more sinister sister. My little sister was not yet one year old but full of deadly ammunition. I hid under the pillows waiting for a reprieve. The pellets had to run out eventually, yet when I peeked out they were still flying toward me. My older sister manically laughing, a joker grin covered her face. She was the enemy. I had nothing.

Quickly I used the oldest trick in warfare. I took up the pellets fired in my direction and slung them back at her. A duck. A roll. We both knew this had to end eventually. Who would call a truce? I had an ample supply of pellets that had previously belonged to my enemy. Once I was sure that she was running low I decided to make my move. I started bombarding her with pellets. One after another. Hit. Hit. Hit. I could have never anticipated her next move.

The swirls and leaves all around you once brought tranquility forth. The simple beauty of nature greeted you and gave you hope. This place was meant to be filled with peace but was now forever to be remembered for the foul stench of war.

Silently my older sister ducked down, rolled across the war and took up the last remaining ammunition. No, not just the ammunition the whole storage container! The container with the last remaining remnants of pellets and other weapons of war! It came flying toward me. I was too dumbstruck to move. I was paralyzed with the realization of what was coming toward me. I stood there and accepted my fate. It wasn’t long before the war was over and I stood defeated.

My older sister, with a gloating look on her face, picked up the younger and showered her with thankful kisses. She had provided the win, the final blow, which left me to accept my failure. I had miscalculated. I had lost.

There was a heavy consequence for my defeat.

On my hands and knees I went about gathering the fallen ammunition. Placing it for disposal. Gagging over the stench of war. This was to be my place; I was to be reminded of our battle continuously.

At least until my younger sister was potty trained.

*No actual poop was flung in the making of this short story.

Despite what my older sister believes.