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One
of the Shapers by michelle zeman "Running...running...I can't scream...It's closer...closer....I...." I sit up, sweat pouring down my face, my hands clutching the edge of my bed. My thoughts burst from the nightmare world into the real one. I look nervously all around the room almost daring the shadows to move and then maybe I could scream. Instead everything remains very quiet. Slowly, I loosen the tangle of sheets that surround me and sit on the end of my bed. Then in one quick move, I sprint out of the room, tip-toe down the hallway and stop in front of my sister's door. I try to carefully open the door but it squeaks anyway. I kneel down near her bed, balancing on the balls of my feet. Gently I shake her and her eyes open half way. "Nicolle, I'm really sorry but I just had this really bad nightmare." Her eyes which had been suprised, now looked at me with concern and sympathy. "It's okay. Was it very scary?" I hugged my knees and rocked back and forth. "Yeah, this clown was in the basement while I was alone in the house. It kept calling me, saying it was going to kill me. I ..." "Don't tell me, then I'll have bad dreams too." She rubbed her eyes and pulled the sheets closer. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to talk with you. You always wake me when I have a bad dream." My guilt caused me to feel a little defensive. "I know,
I'm just tired. I'm sorry you had a nightmare. Try and think of
something else." She was starting to drift off again, so I
knew it was time for me to go back to bed. "Thanks, Nicolle.
Good night." She murmured a "G'ni" and I returned
quietly to my room. I was able to fall asleep immediately. In the course of our lives, many people come and go but whether we realize it or not they touch us, and some even shape us. My sister is one of the shapers. She is my best and closest friend. Our relationship is one of love and trust. I could not think of a better way of illustrating this than beginning with one of my many night journeys from my childhood. We have always relied on each other even to make the fears of the night go away. Even though there are never any specific words of consolation, the understanding between us is enough. Nicolle is younger
than me, which makes me "the big sister". When she was
born, I did experience the usual jealousy for my mother's attention,
but as she grew older this changed. Now I had someone to play with
and share my ideas with. Unwittingly she brought out the creative
side of me. Since she was younger, it was up to me to invent new
games and activities. We had countless numbers of clubs, which included
everything from guinea pigs to John Travolta. During the summer
our backyard was transformed to campsites, cities, jungles and alien
worlds. We exited the spacecraft with our laser guns drawn. I look over my shoulder to make sure that first office Nicolle is still there. I check my compass and proceed forward slowly. "Be careful, we don't want to let anyone know we're here." Nicolle follows obediently. I refer to some invisible instruments and scan the landscape for any signs of hostile forces. I think for a moment before I say, "Look! There's a village over there." I point in the front of us. "Let's go check it out." Nicolle hesitates and looks around. "Michelle, where's the village?" "Over there." I point again to the bushes in our yard, but she still looks at me blankly. "You have to use your imagination. Picture it in your mind and pretend." "Why?" "Because it's fun." Then I add, "Besides, if you don't use your imagination the world is pretty boring." She looks satisfied with that answer, then asks, "Who told you?" I try to be
patient. "Everyone knows. Don't you watch Sesame Street?" People often say that when we are children we tend to take things for granted and we do not realize the value of life. I agree because I used to take my sister for granted until I was about eight. In February
of Nicolle's fourth year she was hospitalized for sixteen days.
I came home from school one day and my grandmother and Aunt told
me where she was. When I asked what was wrong, they told me she
had an ear infection but everything was okay. Mom spent the days
with Nicolle and since my dad worked I had to stay with my aunt.
I can't say that I was really worried about Nicolle, I was more
concerned with how it changed the family's routine. I did not find
out until she came home exactly how serious it was. She had had
several delicate operations on her ear from which she could have
lost her hearing, become paralyzed or even died. When I found out
I was shocked, but I never took it seriously because she was home
now. A few months later, during the summer, the gravity of the entire
experience finally hit me. Nicolle and I are playing in my grandmother's front yard. It's the first sunny day all week and we are trying to make the most of it. My heart swells with the freedom and warmth of the summer. Nicolle is laughing, running ahead of me, in a game of tag. Finally we both collapse on the damp grass. I look up and watch a gentle breeze toy with the branches of the trees. I glance over at Nicolle who is also enjoying the view. Suddenly I picture myself alone in the yard. Nicolle had died and I was alone. At first I feel sad, then very afraid. The one person I could confide in and trust wasn't there anymore. Who would I go to the movies with? Who could I share my ideas with? Who will I go to in the night if I have a nightmare? I shiver and realize that I am crying. Before I know it I am hugging her. "Nicolle I just want you to know that you are the best sister in the whole world. I am so lucky to have you. I don't know what I would do without you. I love you." Now we are both crying and shivering in the warmth of the sun. "Nicolle, I love you."
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I
would try out all my ideas on Nicolle, and began to really value
her opinion. I would be able to tell which ones were good by her
reaction. Although this did get me into trouble from time to time.
For instance it took her weeks to forgive me when she found out
rocks were not really alive or that I wasn't really prone to fainting
spells.