What is this?

It is kind of weird a feeling that I am having now.
Is this reflection? Or is this confession?
Let me start from the very beginning.

A few years ago, 7 years to be precise, 2 of my cousins were sent to our house, to be taken care of my mother. It is some kind of 'wasiat' from the children  mother, that so persistently want them to be raised by my mother. During that time, I was over 15, barely 16 and will be sitting for my SPM. I reckon that age should be mature enough for a girl, but alas, was I not.

I was so childish, and I get sensitive over everything that they do. I think it might be the nature of never having a younger sibling that had shaped my character to be that way. And I did shameful childish stuffs too. When I think of that now, I felt rather bad. But had I not have that kind of experience, it would never have moulded my mind into what I think today. So nonetheless, alhamdulillah.

When they first came, the boy was 10, and his sister was 6. The first few days were tolerable, the rest I could say like the terrors in my life. Adapting weren't easy, living together needs a lot of patience and tolerance. We have no problems before that because we live separately. But the experience of being under one roof fighting for the love of my mother is something I would never erase from my life.

They're unfortunate, having lost their mother at such young age. I am more fortunate to compare with, because when Baba was called 'home' to Him, I was 14 and I have already felt the loads of love a dad could give to his beloved daughter. I was fortunate, because my dad is not working and always at home. Mum came home from work at about 7 - 7.30pm everyday. Not too late, we still could interact with each other and be happy with each other's company.

But they're unfortunate. Their mother was called 'home' at the age of 35, after almost 4 years suffering of mysterious disease that attacked her belly until it grew so big but her other body parts grew so thin. The husband, my uncle worked until long past midnight, with ridiculous work shifts that took 12 to 15 hours of his time. The children always waited for the father to come back every night, up until 3am. I still remember their stories, they love to ask their father to get burgers for them, even if they get to eat it after 3am.

When they first came, they have a lot of flaws. And some of them I couldn't even accept and tolerate. I won't have them told here, because by today, they have already improved in terms of everything. And they are a lot better than me in some of the things. I have never thought things could be this fine after 7 years, praise be to Allah, for helping these 2 little children overcoming their flaws and letting them grow like they did today. Although I couldn't say they are perfect, and nobody is perfect; but I could feel proud to have them as my own siblings. They still need lots of guidance, and it is our job, the older ones to show them the way that they couldn't see for themselves now.

End of flashback
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School holidays are coming to an end. Last Sunday, the girl, now 13 years old, came to our house for a week to have sleepovers. Oh, I didn't tell you that they have already moved to my granny's house late 2009. That happened when we realized that we can no longer be good examples for the children.

And today, she had gone back to granny's house because school is going to be on again this coming Monday. I have never thought I would be feeling kind of missing something when she goes back. She has grown quite bubbly, she talks a lot, she demands for attention. And when I try to recall back, I was just like that when I was 13. I talk a lot, and I think seriously about small things. I felt that every nice and every horrid things need to be talked about. How life had passed :)

And seeing her now, made me think that this is the most miserable time in a girl's life. Especially once the monthly routine started. It is such a bother to adult, what more to a girl who experienced it for the first time. A little story about growing up girls. We just can't understand why the change must happen. Unwanted, it changed our body, the last thing that we want in life. Suddenly we are not the same any more. Suddenly we have lots of things to protect. We don't care about being prettier and more ladylike. We hate the curves that is followed up by the monthly routine plus pimples and cramps everywhere. We are afraid it might show at school. We get shy when the topic is brought up in class. Although we start to have instant liking to opposite gender, we still hate the fact that happened to us biologically.

However, throughout the years, we forgot about the miseries, and celebrate the bright side of it ^_^