This is my post for
Pop Up WeWrite Contest!! by 
prompt
To Elder, Sister always seemed to have dirt on her face. Others thought Sister was peachy keen, top of the heap, something to admire, to cherish, to laugh with, and to love. But Elder knew Sister was dirty dirty dirty, in the way only an older sister could know such things. A sister who had been stabbed in the back, time and again, from the moment Sister was born.
Of course, Elder wasn’t without her own unsavory identities. She was pretty sure that SHE was the peachy keen one of the two. So she devoted her life, from the moment Sister was born to showing up Sister. This was easy in the intellectual department because Sister’s aim was only moderately good when she shot from the heart. Elder’s aim was unerring when she shot from the head.
“What's that got to do with the price of eggs?” Elder asked, that time Sister was having a hissy fit about the ice skate.
“We’re not talking about the price of eggs!!” Sister stamped her foot, turned purple, and cried.
Elder had perfected her smirk by this time, and smirk she did.
Sister saw Elders smirk and this made her want to scream, Elder knew that this was the way to get back at Sister, she knew how hard it was for Sister to hold her emotions in and she wanted others to see in Sister what she saw and see they did.
You see every since Sister became an adult she thought the world owed her something and she had to have the last word. But not this time, this time Elder will have the last word without saying anything else.
