The Iron Sister: A Short Story

I was used to being stared at, as was my little sister. From a very young age people told us we were beautiful. Our first day at St. Jerome’s or St. Germs as I heard numerous of the kids call it, was no different. My sister and I stepped out of the car and right away I noticed a boy outside. He stopped what he was doing and looked at us. Routine choppy hair and boxy clothing, he obviously wasn 't done growing nonetheless you could tell he was Ojibway. I smiled at him as we passed. We’d pass in the hallways or in the chapel and he 'd say hi, or look my way. Feeble attempts for attention, my sister was the only thing that got my attention. Katherine was all I had left, petite and ethereal. However the nuns had no mercy for the timid, continuing …show more content…
She would wet the bed and be punished heavily. I tried futilely to save her. That 's when I saw truly how deeply she was changed, that was the last time I saw her at all. The Iron Sister is cold, and you can feel your thoughts bouncing back at you. All I could think about was the terrible things going on here. As time crawled by I considered the kids dying and the labor throughout the day, how could they even call this a school? Worse thoughts came at my third meal? fourth? Maybe two days? I started thinking about home. My radiant little sister and I, we had a broken family. My parents were scarred by the same thing we were dealing with but we had moments. We had lots of moments. Running by the creek, playing tag, our friends were there. Now where are they? I kept going in circles with this. Eventually sanding down the happiness that came along with the memories and leaving longing behind. I forgot what warmth felt like. The cold had seeped into by bones, through my veins and muscles. All I can think about when the thoughts run out is the freezing air surrounding …show more content…
I stood there in shock. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breath. I was going to throw up. I slowly walked out to the front. The kids constellate behind us. Stepping past the nun to the front of the school. I let it all out. All the frustration of the school, all the regret, everything. I screamed and tore at my skin. I didn’t stop for what felt like an eternity. Until there was nothing left. The kids still staring. Not the same stares as before. Not the stares marveling at our beauty. Was the beauty even worth anything in the end? Was