Through Clouded Glass

A Losing Battle

"Iris."

I heard my name.

"Iris."

Again. There it was.

"Iris, I swear. Get the hell up."

I snapped from my dream, awake almost instantly. My head was spinning. A loud buzzing noise was accompanied by an even louder ringing. It echoed throughout my skull, sharp pains emanating along with it.

"Why must you be so complicated?" Ginger quipped, pulling my hand along with her much harder than she should have.

I was forcefully pulled from the lovely warmth provided to me by protective layers of blankets, soft and welcoming. My bare feet hit the ground with a thud, icing over on contact with the smooth hardwood floor. The chill traveled from my toes upward, raising the thin hairs on my skin and making even the tip of nose cold. I shivered as I stood in my old, raggedy pajamas. The thin, worn cotton shirt was draped loosely over my tiny frame, catching a cold draft as I was now exposed to the open air.

Tumbling forward, I struggled to keep up with Ginger as she ran across the room with my body in tow. Stumbling every so often, I kept painfully scraping my skin against various objects of furniture. I thought I lost my pinkie toe once or twice beneath the couches. Those damn corners are jerks, as most furniture edges are.

"There is no way I am missing breakfast today. Oh no. I refuse to scrounge once again through the cabinets to find something to eat," Ginger said in an exceptionally sassy tone. Just enough to let me know she was not happy with my sleeping habits.

"For crying out loud, it's not like we'll be executed if we get food any other time than scheduled cooking, and you don't have to kill me in the process either," I mumbled, having an even harder time keeping up with her pace as we neared the stairwell.

Grabbing onto the carved wooden railing for support multiple times, I lost my footing almost all the way down those steps. She might as well have just rolled me down the stairs. That would have been easier, I'm sure. I mean, she wouldn't have risked getting killed nearly as much. After all, that's what I'm for.

Ginger may have been my best friend since before I could even speak, but she knew what sleeping was for me. It is the only quiet time I ever have, which really isn't saying much. So naturally I was slightly irritated when she disturbed me at such a ridiculously early time in the morning. However, I couldn't stay mad at her for long. Ginger is the sister with whom I share no blood, yet love unconditionally. She is, in the end, family. Therefore, I forgive her quickly.

Coming from my perspective as an orphan, I don't think many people realize that family doesn't just have to be blood. In fact, family isn't blood. Family are the people you choose. They're the people you have a deep and infinite love for, and that you care for all the way down to your core with a burning passion. They're the people you are proudly willing to protect no matter the consequences for you. But maybe most importantly, they're the people who will always reciprocate those same feelings. And they will always be the people who make you a better person. You may not always agree with them, but they're only caring in the one way they know how. It is up to a family to support each other and learn from each other in many ways.

For me, that was Ginger. We always found it ridiculous when people said that you couldn't choose family. Because blood relation only means you share blood, it doesn't mean you share the bond that we have. We attached almost instantly, and we became inseparable. Eventually, I had to let her know about my secret. It just didn't seem right to keep that from her. But no matter how close of a bond we had, our fiery arguments were one of the only things keeping us from growing sick of each other.