Bzzzzzz. Bzzzzzzz. Bzzzzzzz.
"Not again!" I cried.
I hate that - you are about to engage yourself in something but your phone calls you away. I pry my eyes from the T.V. and glance at my demanding phone. It is a text from Susie.
"Really?" I thought, "You're wasting my time and my cell phone's battery."
I set my phone back down on the pillow beside me and turn my attention back to the T.V. Seinfeld was on, exactly at 10 p.m., and I had my daily ritual of plopping down on the couch and laughing till my stomach hurt.
Bzzzzz. Bzzzzzz. Bzzzz.
"Probably Susie talking about how bored she is," I predicted.
"I'm Bored. Go online."
"So demanding," I thought. "I'm busy," I wrote back.
Bzzzz. "No ur not."
True, I wasn't really busy but I wasn't in the mood to talk to a hyperactive child who needed constant attention.
"Later," I replied.
Bzzzzz. "Later nvr comes, u come on NOW."
I gave up the pointless argument and switched off my favorite show. Reluctantly I flipped open my new laptop and proceeded to login to Gmail.
BING! BING! BING! 40 new messages.
"Forty?!?" I said in disbelief. "I'm pretty sure I had zero yesterday."
I scrolled down my inbox: Susannah Rosales filled the entire page. I clicked on the bottom message: "HI". I clicked the second: "Hello". I clicked the third: "Mornin". I was about to trash all of the pointless emails until I saw one that said, "URGENT". I clicked on it expecting something meaningful but it was blank. I scrolled further down to the reply box to express my dissatisfaction until big bold letters covered the page.
"I LOST THE GAME"
"NO!" I irritably moaned. "I hate the game!"
Ever since my best friend Taylor taught me how to play The Game I've regretted it. It made me so frustrated because of the psychological torment it gave me. Remembering things you want to forget. Basically everytime you remember the game, you lose, and you have to tell everyone else so that way they lose as well. It's the stupidest thing I ever heard of. Yet I cannot resist playing, the exasperation of others is priceless. I guess its gambling at Vegas, you always fail, but those few moments of laughter in making others lose is priceless.
Boop. A chat box from Susie pops up on my screen.
"Hey," I type back. "What did you want?"
"… uhh ok then y did u want me to come on here?"
"Cuz I said so"
I would block Susie from my email and phone, but I don't know how. Actually I wouldn't mind it so much because it gives me someone to talk to, but I can't spend all day on the internet. I thought it would be mean to ignore a 10 year old, so I endured the adolescent's excess energy. People keep thinking that there is a "thing" between us, but I said that would be "weird and definitely not true. She just liked to talk, and I guess I liked to listen. Except for when she goes overboard and spams my email and phone when I don't respond.
"Whats up?" I asked, hoping that we would actually have a real conversation instead of her mumbling made up words.
Malus is her huge golden retriever that loves being scratched on his muscular neck. He can chase down a squirrel faster than a child who hears an ice cream truck approaching but be as lazy as a hung over drunkard. He loves it when I visit, and I always tease Susie because he's not as fond of her as he is of me. Most dogs like to be smothered with affection, but I know that all Malus wants is attention and a good scratching. Not wet kisses on the forehead or baby talk in his sharp ears.
"So wats up?" I ask again.
"nm," she replied, not meaning that she wasn't doing anything, but that she wanted me to be quiet and stop asking her questions. I could never understand why she wanted to talk in the first place if she was just going to ignore me, but of course this was all four years ago. Right now she is a teenager: strong, stubborn, and smart. Not physically strong, but strong willed. Her thoughts and actions are a force to be reckoned with. Stubborn as a mule I would say, she doesn't let anyone change her. And she is both intelligent and sarcastic. An exact reflection of myself; I guess it runs in the genes. Though we may seem different, my little sister and I have a lot more in common than I once previously thought.