Member-only story
i am my own older sister.
i always wonder what it feels like to have an older sister, what it feels like to have a sister i can rely on, because in this one and only life i carry the weight and responsibility of that role. then i search for that figure everywhere, in every person i meet, but still, no one treats me as well as i treat myself, the way i become a sister to my own self.
i am a daughter who swallows all my sadness alone, i pity my parents more than i pity myself so i never share my sad stories with them. because i know no matter how much i deny it, the sadness they’ve gathered through the years must be heavier than mine. i choose to believe that.
i am a daughter whose sadness feels too small, but the pain feels like a steep cliff that opens wide and drowns me deep inside it. dark. i lost the ability to scream and ask for help, so i choose to curl up with broken legs in there. looking in all directions with an empty gaze, there’s only me in there.
i am that stubborn daughter, the one who when my mother scolds me i know what’s right and wrong but choose to stay silent, because the voice that others will hear is a hoarse sound stuck in my throat that falls with my…
