“Sister,” by Passages student Victoria Demmons, from our most recent Passages Press

Posted on Wednesday January 27, 2016


by Victoria Demmons

South Thomaston, ME

It all started when we were just babies. My sister always ruined my fun. It’s like it made her happy to see me sad. She used to hit me, tell me to stand up under an electric horse fence because it “wouldn’t hurt.” We were always fighting, always yelling about this or that, if she was wearing my clothes or I was wearing hers. It didn’t change until I was about ten and she was eleven. Yes, we still occasionally fought like all sisters do, but it wasn’t as bad. We spent more time together, told each other little things. Then I turned twelve and chose the wrong paths to go down.

I was depressed, I ran away all the time, and would never want to go back home. It didn’t feel like home. With my depression, I chose to drink and start smoking pot like all my “friends” were doing. There were times when I would wake up and not know where I was. When I was twelve I met who I thought was the “love of my life.” I started running away, to him. Drank, with him. Smoked, with him. He was bad for me but I couldn’t see it. I was blinded by how I thought I had to be, to see who I really was. My sister told me he was no good for me. But I didn’t listen. A year later our relationship started to change. It wasn’t new anymore. He was always mad, always yelling and calling me names, I thought it was normal. I was only thirteen. I left for nights to stay with him without telling my mom, she was always worried.

Right before I turned fourteen I found out the reason why my relationship had felt so distant was because he was cheating on me with my “best friend.” He apologized and said how it would never happen again. I forgave him.

Months later, I started feeling sick. I was staying home from school. I finally asked my mom if she would take me to the hospital because I thought I had appendicitis. Well it wasn’t that…I found out that day that I was nine weeks pregnant. I cried while the person I had let down the most sat there and held my hand – my mom. Later that day when my sister got home from school, she walked through the front door and I burst into tears.
I told her, and she sat with me and she told me that everything would be ok.

A week after I found out that I was pregnant, my relationship ended. Ever since that day, it has been my sister by my side, picking me up when I fall, and there to tell me it will ALWAYS be ok. Even when it’s not. Still to this day. I am sixteen and my son is a year old. My sister is my idol and my biggest support along with my mother.