Narrative/Descriptive

My sister and I The day my sister left for England, something inside of me woke up. It felt like the desert sand being surprised by cool wet rain, my amazement and surprise was just the same. The reality that this was really happening, we really were being separated, all became too much for me. As close as two siblings could be, it is often difficult to distinguish between Kenza and I. One wonders, where does Kenza start, and where do I begin? Who developed the sarcastic wit, and who picked it up as the years went by? My life is so extraordinary linked to this woman. She is vibrant, she is intelligent. She is beauty that is discovered in the rarest of places, she is the lyrics in that sad song. She is the stars that I wish upon, and she is the cure to every sickness I possess. It began in the morning, Sunday the seventh. The day started just like any other, and surprisingly it took me a few minutes to remember that this was the last day for a year that I'll get to spend with my sister. As I crawled into her bed to wake her up, I wondered how I would start a new life, in a new school, with new friends without my sister at my side. Kenza is my confidante and everything that I do needs approval from her. Every joke I make is applauded with laugher from her. We come as a package; she complements me just as I complement her.
Breakfast with the family was a Sunday morning routine. As we gathered around the table the food was soon forgotten as final details were organized and final promises were made. Kenza and I went back to the bedroom afterwards, to re-pack her bag, wishing all the while that this day wasn't happening. We spent the afternoon together, doing what we do best, watching "Friends," laughing, conversing in languages only we can understand. The afternoon was interrupted by the arrival of her current boyfriend, and as they shared their final moments alone, realization crept under the front door, and the house grew quiet.