A picture is worth a thousand words. To many a picture is just a picture. To others there is great meaning behind a picture. To the many that see a picture based on just what they see, those are the realists because they see things for what they are. But there are those others who are not afraid to get creative and use their imagination to interpret a picture.
I have a picture of me holding my sister as a baby. I was about 4 and she was about 1. My tiny arms were around her chunky little body as sat on the bed staring blankly into the camera. We were at the age of innocence, not knowing any better. All I knew was that I was happy to have a little sister. Thinking back, this picture holds a great memory, deeper than you can ever imagine. For most people the birth of a new baby means another addition to the family. But for me, the birth of my little sister was the start of a great friendship, but the loss of one as well.
For the first three years of my life I felt like an only child. I had an older brother who loved me to death, but the age gap was so big therefore he was busy living is teenage life at the time. I had friends but once I reached into the house I felt like it was just me. I received a lot of attention from my family being the baby and all, but something was missing. I needed someone who was always going to be there for me, someone who I could talk to about anything and everything. Therefore I was forced to create a friend from my imagination.
Patty was her name. She had become my best friend. She was my height, had chocolate skin, had big dark brown eyes, and always had her hair in two braids. I talked to her all the time and I enjoyed playing with her. I never got tired of her company and vice versa. My mom thought it was funny for me to have an imaginary friend, but my dad thought I was crazy and needed to see a shrink. It seemed as if I was always talking to myself, but I was talking to Patty. There was one incident that I remember like it was yesterday. I was three years old and I thought I could pour myself a cup of juice, but I ended up spilling it. When my mom asked why I did it I put the blame on Patty. At the age of three, it was frustrating for me because they couldn’t see Patty when I told her she was standing right next to me.
When my mom told me she was pregnant, I felt like I was having a baby too. I used to go around telling people that I and my mom are having a baby. Time flew by and it was finally time for my sister to be born. When she came home from the hospital all I wanted to do was help hold her, feed her, change her diaper, and be the best big sister I could be. Me and my sister were always together, and did everything together up to this day. I gained a new best friend, and I didn’t even notice that Patty had left my life until months later when my mom asked, “Where’s Patty?”
