We were always three, my sisters and me.
We went to the prom together, no boys, just us three. We studied in the library together: science, maths and English. We travelled together: Italy, Barcelona and New York. When we had a huge decision to make, we made it together, just us three. We all got into the same university. We studied different things, though: Textiles, Sociology and English Literature. It was always just us three. We lived together. We studied hard, watched TV hard, partied hard.
At the start of summer, I didn’t see one of my sisters for a whole day. To anyone else, that would be normal. Not in our circle. I rang her but she didn’t respond. I text her but she didn’t reply. She didn’t even Tweet me back. That same day, my other sister ditched me for another friend. A better friend. But I was her sister. I saw them both the day after. They didn’t understand why I was so upset. They were mine. It was just us three. What if they forgot me like our mother did? What if they walked away and I never saw them again?
They were moving on. Each through their different doorways.