Milk Carton
By Jaclyn / musicnotej
October 2003

She hasn't seen her sister since the 6th grade, when people still called her Tessie and she was the shortest one in the class.


That Girl's Sister doesn't suppose she'll ever see her again, and she can sort of live with that.

She keeps these thoughts to herself.

And she waits in the brittle stillness - though it's been almost three years - for everything to shatter around her. The air in her family's house has hardened into something thick and tough, a glassblower's throwaways, and this is why nobody talks anymore.

She sneaks up onto the roof at night when her parents are sleeping and just breathes. Inevitably, her knees catch on the shingles when she attempts an awkward crawl back down, leaving a messy crisscross of scratches and bloody, uneven skin.

Her jeans hurt too much, so she starts wearing long, black skirts. She lets her parents think it's because she's in mourning.


She wishes her sister had never been born.