Journey of love
by Carrie Harris

"Give me some peace, Claire!" I yelled, slamming my door. I could hear her whimpers of disappointment that aggravated me, but I wasn't about to let her in. She was the most annoying child I had ever known, and she was my sister.

Claire was what you'd call a miracle baby, or so my parents thought. Some miracle! Sure, she was cute with her large light blue eyes and her wavy golden hair, but she was a snivelling whining little tomboy. She loved to wear her overalls and flannelette shirts and follow Dad while he worked, but she also loved to go crying to Mum every time she had a splinter.

I was eight when Claire was born. That was six years ago. I had been carefree and happy, and more importantly I had Mum and Dad to myself. I hated the fact that another person was coming to take some of their love away from me, and that I would no longer get whatever I wanted whenever I wanted it.

Before Claire was born, we often got takeaway for dinner, and we regularly went out to visit friends. That all changed when Claire arrived. We hardly ever got takeaway anymore, because "we don't have the money … we need it for the baby".

Mum didn't go out as much after Claire was born, either, and shopping trips became mundane chores instead of the exciting events they used to be. We were always in a hurry now, which meant that Mum didn't do fun things like buy me ice-creams any more.

Claire also made it hard to sleep. I would be tired from being at school all day and thinking so much, only to be woken at three in the morning because Claire wanted something. It was all just so unfair! Mum and Dad were really happy, of course, because they had always wanted another child.

I've been told there were complications of some kind when Mum gave birth to me, and the doctors had to do some sort of emergency surgery. Afterward, they had told Mum she could not have any more children.

I sat in my room with my music loud to drown out Claire's cries. Doubtless she would complain to Mum that I wasn't being fair, but experience told me I had at least an hour before she did that. She seemed to think that she would get more sympathy if she could say she had been pleading outside my door for ages.

I flopped down on my bed and picked up the latest issue of my favourite magazine, flicking immediately to the gossip pages. I really wasn't that interested in what the celebrities were up to, but at my school not knowing would make me an outcast. I endured the latest news about Nicole Kidman and Tom Cruise for a while, but then I grew bored with it all.

"It's too nice outside to be cooped up in here," I thought to myself, and turned the music off. I realised that it was quiet outside my door, so I stood up, smoothed my clothes, and cautiously opened the door to peek out. No sign of Claire … great. She had gone early to whine to Mum.

I thought for a moment about where I could go, and then I remembered that some kids at school were planning to play footy on the school oval around five. It was about a quarter to five now, so if I was quick I could make it. I tied my thick and annoying hair back with a scrunchie, and put on my sandshoes.

I drew in my breath as I reached the bottom of the stairs. So far I had not been noticed, so I made a dash for the door. A sound behind me caught my ears, and I looked quickly over my shoulder. Yep, there she was, clutching her teddy-bear and staring at me.

"Aww Ruth, please lemme play!" she pleaded in her high-pitch whiny voice. Her golden hair dangled untidily around her small round face, and her fringe danced daintily from under her blue baseball cap as she loped toward me. She was wearing her favourite denim overalls, the ones with the little butterfly on the front, and one of the straps came loose as she ran.

"Not today, kiddo," I mumbled to myself, and ran through the door and out into the street as quickly as I could. If I could just get around the corner before she saw where I had gone … I heard little footsteps behind me, but she was so much smaller and slower than me that I could easily out-run her.

A squeal of brakes and a woman's scream brought me to an abrupt halt, and my heart leaped into my throat as I turned and saw Claire's cap lying on the road. Claire was hidden from view by a white sedan that was parked sideways on the tarmac, four black lines drawn in a peculiar skid at its rear.

My heart seemed to stop as I stood frozen to the ground, unable to believe what I was seeing. Images of Claire as a baby suddenly raced through my mind, quickly followed by her first steps, her first tooth, all the memorable events that etch so firmly in our memories.

I think I screamed her name as I raced toward her, terrified by what I knew I would see. The woman who had screamed moments before was jumping out of the car, while the driver just sat in shocked silence, his face drained of all colour.

Reaching that car seemed to take an eternity, and all I could think about was never seeing Claire's beautiful smile again, never hearing her sweet little laugh. I thought of all the times I had tucked her into bed at night, and how innocent she looked as I pulled the blankets up to her chin. Would I never have the chance to tuck her in again?

Now that I had lost her, I realised how much I loved her. We fought so much, but we were bonded by something inexplicable, some love that couldn't be explained. I was her big sister, her protector, and in one terrifying instant all that was gone.

Tears streamed freely from my face as I reached her, and my mind refused to accept what I saw.

Sitting in stunned silence on the road, clutching her teddy bear to her chest, sat my little sister. She was badly frightened, but unharmed. The car must have stopped before it touched her!

Relief flooded through my veins as I knelt beside her and took her in my arms, rocking her gently and whispering that she was okay, it would be okay, and I loved her … How I appreciated her then with a love I hadn't realised was there.

Moments later Mum came running from the house, her flower-patterned dress flowing behind her like a breeze, and she laughed with relief when she saw we were both okay. I gently picked Claire up and handed her over, then humbly followed behind as Mum took her inside.

As I thought it over that night, I realised I had undertaken a journey. In moments, my selfishness and anger had transformed into a new appreciation of those I loved. It was as though I had taken a voyage of discovery, and learned who I truly was.

I was part of my family, and my family was part of me.