"Sisters" - That’s your sister? When people find me and my sister side by side, they do a double take. From one of us, to the next, back and forth until they find the slightest similarly. Our noses are slightly the same. Our hair falls in a similar way, despite how they are different colors and mine is short and hers is long. Other than that, we looking nothing alike. Opposites. Her. Dark brown hair. Me. Bright blonde hair. Her. Green eyes. Me. Blue eyes. People try to find those tiny similarities, but others don't even try. They just shake their heads and say they can't see it. Our looks aren't the only thing that is different about the two of us. She is flexible. I can barely touch my toes. She loves Science. I love English. Even our food tastes are on different spectrums. Nothing makes us the same.The only common thread that connected us are our parents. If it wasn't for our last names, teachers wouldn’t stop and think about how they might have had me as a student before her. She is more of the type of student that reads betweens the lines and gets A+ with spelling and tests. Me, I have to have a bright neon flashing light over me saying OVER HERE before I make a connection. But we are sisters and nothing can change that. Like ying and yang. Opposites, but they always go together. Even if we don’t look alike and don't think the same, I am still her sister and she is my sister. No matter what, we will always end up standing side by side.
"My Name" - Too many choices. Ella, Maya, Isobel. Each good in its own way, but just not right. Everytime my parents thought of a name, they wrote it down onto the list. By the time I was born, they had a list of too many names. By the time they were to name me, they could not choose one. Every time my parents were about to write a name on the birth certificate, they thought about it again and backed away. Day after day in the hospital they went through the list, looking that a name, then looking at me, then looking back at the list, and then back at me. Day after day of being in the hospital, nurses would kindly remind my parents that they had a nameless child. Day after day, my parents would say that they knew and needed more time to think of the perfect name.Three days into parenthood and still nothing except a last name. Time was quickly running out. Needing to leave the hospital, nurses threatened to name their child for them. But one last attempt. My parents looked at the list one last time and threw it out. They grabbed the nearest baby name book they could find. A flick to turn to the first page of the naming book, first name on the page, on the upper left hand corner. They grabbed a pen. Wrote the name down. Right next to it was space for a middle name. My mother's favorite pure blooming flower.Looking down at the definition, next to the name, my father smiled. Looking back at the name, then back at me. Fathers joy. My name. The right amount of a mother and a father.
"London Eye" - Looking up, it seemed to go on forever. The huge wheel seemed to turn over and over again. My cousins and I were fidgeting like kids waiting to see Santa, not wanting to wait one more second until we got into the glass capsule for a ride. We had spend the whole day walking around London, looking at castles, and all the attractions. The grand finale was coming up, a ride on the London Eye. The parents were lined up in front of the ticket booth, while all of the rest of us looked up in awe. We saw the Eye move round and round, tiny figures that were humans, miles in the sky. We all didn’t notice the ticket booths lights abruptly turning off and people walking away. We didn’t notice the parents looking at us, trying to figuring out a way to tell us the news without everyone getting upset. My cousins and I were told this was to be the highlight of our day, being able to see all the bright lights of London by going on the Eye, seeing a view we would never forget. Did you get the tickets? We surrounded the adults, jittering with excitement. The parents looked at one person to another. We got to the booth a bit late and so we can’t go on the Eye today, they said, looking a little nervous at us. My cousins and I all were shocked. I had spent my whole day looking forward to that moment when we would be at the top of the London Eye and see all the lights, but all my dream crashed down. I just stared at the ground, upset and disappointed. We can always come back tomorrow, the parents said, smiling. But that didn’t help lighten the mood that evening. We all slowly walked away, towards the Metro to go home, not wanting to look behind us and see the attraction that we couldn’t go on. The day was ruined.