School starts tomorrow. Is the first day of my sophomore year. I should be excited. This year was going to be my golden year. Getting my license, getting a car, for which I've been saving up for the last year working at a crummy diner. It would've been my last year in high school with my sister, Annabelle. We were going to make it perfect. Perfect.
That was what we planned, Annabelle and I.
Annabelle is basically the definition of the word. She is nice and happy and never treats me like an annoying little sister, even though I'm two years younger. She takes me to the movies and to the lake and lets me hang out with her and her friends.
She always wears outfits that looked like they could be straight from Pinterest, with cute pastel colors and dainty gold accessories. She gives me all her old clothes and lets me borrow the ones she still wears, which is really nice, considering I spill stuff on them at least twenty-five percent of the time. She taught me how to do makeup, but also told me I don't need it to look pretty. She's like that; always letting me know how great I am, even if, most of the time, I don't believe her anyway.
She's just perfect.
Or should I say was?
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