I decided I kind of liked going to my grandma’s house. It was actually pretty nice, well except for that creaky staircase, and maybe that French doll that glares at you with empty, tunnel like eyes. Anyways, it was always fun, me, my cousin and my sister, the three of us together, never separated.
“Want to help me cook Mari?” my grandmother would ask me in Japanese, I’ll always say,
“Want to help me cook Mari?” my grandmother would ask me in Japanese, I’ll always say,
“Can my cousin and Sara help too?”,
"Of course", my grandma would say but I always remember putting a special tone in my cousin. I was being bratty, yeah I knew. We would always play games behind my Sara’s back; Sara was always fooling around anyway, the favorite of my grandparents, I knew I should have said I didn’t want to, I should’ve said I didn’t need one. But the look in her eyes was too much, she looked a little sad, actually she was.
When my cousin went off to school, my sister and I went to the piano room, our usual place to hang out. We sniggered behind our hands, pouring the oil on to the floor, it all looked wrong to me. The oil looked like blood in the dim light.
Well you know what happened after "oil inidents"; okay, well actually...she slid across the floor, like a professional skater, and there was a crash, and all she got was a sprained ankle, luckily.
We said she slipped. we said it was an accident. We said it wasnt us. She said she doesnt know.
When my cousin went off to school, my sister and I went to the piano room, our usual place to hang out. We sniggered behind our hands, pouring the oil on to the floor, it all looked wrong to me. The oil looked like blood in the dim light.
Well you know what happened after "oil inidents"; okay, well actually...she slid across the floor, like a professional skater, and there was a crash, and all she got was a sprained ankle, luckily.
We said she slipped. we said it was an accident. We said it wasnt us. She said she doesnt know.
