“Let’s go for a bike ride!” Sammie woke me up screaming in my ear. The sun was shining, and it was warm, much too warm for August. I groaned and got up. She seemed excited and hyper. Under normal circumstances I would have ignored her, rolling over to recede back into my dreams, but that day something was different. Perhaps it was the sparkle in her eye, or the huge smile on her face when I said that I would be ready in 10. Before I knew it I was having the time of my life. We packed a picnic then rode our bikes to the pond near our house.
“Woop! Woop!” I let out a victorious shout as I beat Sammie in a race once again. “You’re never going to win Sam. Just give up already!”
“I never give up.” She shouted back before passing me, leaving me far behind in a matter of seconds. I didn’t know that she had it in her. Jealousy passed over me like a wave breaking over the sand; bike riding was always something that I had done better. Running was her area of expertise. But then I let it go; I let her win. Ahead of me, she skidded to a stop into the drive way, turning back to see where I was. I coasted up beside her and said that I shouldn’t have taunted her. She grinned and we proceeded to head home.
The rest of the day went by in a blur of laughter. We took pictures together, and vowed to never forget who we were that day. It was an amazing feeling to have a friend so close to me: My sister. When the clouds rolled in and it finally started to rain we danced. The rain hit us, and washed away everything else but that moment. Holding her hands, dancing in the rain, and laughing as we sang, I felt at home. Sometimes I wonder if she remembers, and sometimes I forget, but when we are alone we both know that wherever we are, we are there for each other. For what other purpose are sisters meant to serve?