I haven't spoken to Charlene for a while.
And she didn't come home last night.
I think Mum and Dad are worried, but they hide it from me.
They don't want me to be worried.
But I am.
She's probably at her boyfriends, but I'd much rather her be here.
I've been watching out my bedroom window for most of this morning, waiting for her car to pull into the driveway.
It's cold outside.
I hope she has a jacket.
Why do I care so much about my sister, when she doesn't care at all?
Maybe she does care.
But she never shows it.
I love her anyway.
I guess that's why they call it unconditional love.
YOU ARE READING
Charlene (on hold)
Short Story"She goes out a lot. Although I never know when she's at home anyway, she rarely comes out of her room, and the door is always locked. Dad threatens to remove the lock nearly every week, but I know he never will." A short story (or long poem dependi...
