Personal Narrative: A Place In A Mother's Room

Whenever I go to talk to my sister, or sit in her room, we create a bit of a scene. The situation often plays out a little like so: “Mama! Arya’s irritating me!”, my sister Meher exclaims. I never do anything that should trouble her, I just walk into her room, and I bring my computer and start working. To her, it almost seems as if my presence disturbs the peace. “I’m not doing anything! I am just sitting in her room, silently reading. I can’t be disturbing her.” All I wanted to do was to sit in her room and be with her, but That wasn’t allowed.

Family relationships are always changing. When people mature and develop, it becomes difficult to maintain the same thorough relationship that was held before. As kids increase in independence, their views change from that of their parents, and arguments spark from nothing.

I don’t know why, but it was part of my instinct to annoy and disrupt the entire process, and while I found it funny, my sister began to give me the same devilish stare.

When she had to leave for college, it was a tough time for everyone. There was the stress of not being able to do anything together, and she had to pack her bags at the last minute. For some reason, everyone was getting mad at me for getting in the way, which confused me, as I was just trying to help, but apparently deciding what parts of her room I was going to take over didn’t count as helping.

As my sister got in the car to get to the airport, I didn’t feel that sad, but rather confused. I didn’t know what would happen to me in the next few months, I didn’t know what I would do. I wouldn’t get to see her everyday after school, get her help with homework, or just talk about random stuff. I just didn’t really know what I would do. But, after a few months of absence, and many Skype calls, I seem to have adjusted to the slightly more empty daily