Every household has that weird kid. Growing up, my sister was the weird one. Always talking to imaginary people. Always up late at night, roaming around the house without fear. She believed in all sorts of things, ghosts and goblins and jinns. While I quietly went about being the ideal son, getting good grades, trying to sound knowledgeable about politics and sports and other material things, my sister would roam around with her head in the cloud, smiling and talking to herself and trying to get me to join in
Playing games with her was weird yet entertaining. We would start with some normal board games, ludo, playing ghar ghar, monopoly. But it would not be just the two of us. The kid next door who had died 10 years ago, the old uncle who had died before we were born, some random drifter who couldn't possibly be there, everyone would join us. And of course, she would be the only one to be able to see them. Sometimes I could almost swear that the game pieces were moving by themselves. But of course, I knew it was all her doing, her imagination. But I never felt scared as long as she was with me. My elder sister would look after me and I was safe as long as I was with her. So what if she was this weird kid. She was my sister and I loved her.
I grew into an angsty teen. Was bullied at school. Silent, morose, uncommunicative. I hated everything and anything. Life wasn't good enough. I started experimenting with drugs. My parents tried their hardest to get to me. I shut them out. They pleaded, took me to shrinks, put me into rehabilitation. But they had lost their son. The only person I could share anything with, was my sister. She looked out for me, did not judge me, loved me unconditionally. Slowly but surely, she brought me back from the brink. I sobered up, finished my degree, got a job. She stayed at home to help me study.
I fell in love and got married and had a son. However, I felt I was constantly measuring my wife against my sister and she was always coming up short. She didn't like me talking about my sister all the time. And I would call my sister and complain about my wife. My parents asked me to give my marriage a chance. My sister pleaded with me to cut off contacts with her if it meant that our marriage could be saved. But how could I? I knew how much she had sacrificed for me. In the my wife walked out but thankfully left my son behind, someone who I love with all my heart and the only human being I could relate to after my sister
I haven't seen my sister for a while now. My parents are glad. They think that the medicines are finally working. You see, they tried to convince me that I never had a sister. I was an only child, always been an only child. The doctors, my friends all tell me that my sister is imaginary. Why then has my son started talking about his aunt who visits him everyday and looks after him?
she came with me and their was no one in the room. 
