I am fourteen years old, almost fifteen. I have a younger sister who is nearly thirteen, and two younger brothers, aged ten and two. I was an only child for nearly two years, but I don’t remember those years, and the others have never been without siblings. It’s kind of weird, to me, when I think about being an only child. Having your own room, not having to share anything or compare yourself to anyone day in and day out, but also having no one to talk to or just to have around, taking up space, breathing and laughing and chattering and reminding you you’re not alone. I’d probably be a good only child. I’m fine with being alone, and I prefer the quiet. I like to think I make a pretty good older sister, though, too.

Chloe and me

I’m the one with the short hair, laughing.


My sister is. Well. She’s smart and gorgeous and sharp like a whip, and I love her to bits. Of course, I also hate her with a burning passion, so, you know, it tends to even out. It’s a sibling thing. On one hand, she’s constantly engaging in petty power plays that she invariably wins because she’s more stubborn than me, and I don’t care enough to stick it out, and she insults me, and is condescending towards me, and her mess gets all over my side of the room, and she mocks my interests, and she thinks all of my opinions are things I’m regurgitating from books…

Chloe's pretentious b&w selfie

taken from her instagram



Ahem. I may have gotten slightly carried away there. Anyway, she’s also super gorgeous. Like, “scary gorgeous” in the words of one of my mom’s friends. (That was prompted after the new fourteen-year-old in our homeschooling group kept staring at her and forgetting how to use words.) She’s got super gorgeous dark loosely-curled hair, hazel eyes, and she can tan perfectly in literally an hour. And she’s tall and slim and it is massively unfair. I can pull off “cute and elfin” on a good day. Occasionally I over-correct for the adorable and spend a couple of weeks looking like a Goth. She’s super funny, and snarky, but also polite. She also will consent to fangirl with me on the rare-ish times when our interests overlap. She’s a huge drama queen. When she’s angry, she’s furious and coldly simmers in the general direction of whoever is in the room, and when she’s happy she is very, very happy and giggles and bounces and hugs people. And occasionally she spends entire days wallowing in self pity because she’s bored and sadness is interesting. So, yeah. I hate her sometimes, but I also have an enormous amount of fun with her. I imagine that our relationship will improve once I no longer have to deal with her 24/7.

chloe with braids

she takes a lot of selfies.


Now, my older younger brother– That’s kind of confusing, isn’t it. I’ll use “younger brother” and the littlest can be “baby brother.” Anyway, my younger brother is ten, and he is horrifically lonely. I rarely talk to him or interact with him at all, except to yell at him or express my utter disinterest in what he has to say. It’s awful, and I usually feel pretty bad after a while, but he’s just so annoying. Half the time, he doesn’t even mean to be. He just has a one-track mind, and his entire world revolves around video games, specifically Minecraft. I was okay with it the first few weeks, but eventually, the constant talk of Minecraft started wearing on my nerves. Especially when he insists on explaining everything in detail like I haven’t heard this/done this/played this a hundred times, or showing me five-minute-long videos when I’m in the middle of doing something else, so I have to stop whatever I’m doing for five minutes to watch his video or yell at him until he goes away. He’s a really sweet kid, but he just doesn’t ever stop. Ever. I completely understand, because I am constantly trying to tell Chloe about funny things that happened in my shows/games/mangas/books, but I just can’t stop everything all the time to listen to him. I feel horrible, because I’m really mean to him and he doesn’t deserve that, but he’s just so… Argh.


he is incapable of taking a serious picture


My baby brother is super duper cute, but also very violent. He’s kind of spoiled, and he’ll scream and hit people with sticks or scratch and claw them when he doesn’t get his way. It’s a terrible twos thing, I guess. He’s exhausting, and he has to be constantly supervised, and the only thing that has stopped me from drop-kicking him out of a window is how cute and sweet and lovable he is when he isn’t throwing tantrums. It’s probably a biological thing. Two is an awful age developmentally, because they’re just discovering that they are actual people, but it’s also the cutest, so that two-year-olds don’t get murdered.


So, what I’m trying to say is, sometimes you spend hours meticulously planning your siblings’ deaths by evisceration and burning, or getting in fist-fights, or sitting on them as they scream and attempt to attack each other, or pleasantly and calmly detailing how much you despise them to their faces, but other times you end up sharing chicken nuggets with them at eleven thirty at night, as both of you carefully carve them up with tiny spoons because none of the forks are clean, or sitting in the middle of a war during which two of your siblings toss bananas at each other and giggle, and that is really not an experience only children can have. I guess it’s worth it. Most of the time.


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