She took the bottle of blue hair dye out of the plastic bag. She had gotten tired of the bright purple that she had chosen a week ago.
“I liked it better blond,â€? her younger sister told her, standing outside of her bedroom door.
“And the world revolves around you,â€? she muttered, turning around to walk to the bathroom.
“Why do you dye your hair?â€? her bubblegum chewing sister asked her.
“Dunno,â€? she answered, not bothering to hide her annoyance.
“Why don’t you ever wear pink?â€?
She shrugged not bothering to give her an answer.
When her sister kept staring at her, waiting, she sighed, frustrated and answered, “Black suits me.â€?
She waited for her to leave but she kept standing there.
“Can you go?” she asked exasperated.
“I liked you better before mom died,â€? her sister mumbled.
Pain flashed through her eyes before disappearing as quickly as it had come.
“Don’t. Say. Her. Name,â€? she commanded in a low voice. She glared at her sister angrily before slamming the door shut.