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For school, my brother has been writing this autobiography-story-thing that all incoming seventh graders have to do. In it, there's this part requiring you to detail qualities of your siblings, and I was dying to find out what Peter wrote about me. However, he's basically one of the least emotionally responsive human beings ever, so simply asking to see it wasn't going to happen. I tried a few times to sneak into his room and read it but he flipped out, and momentarily I felt stuck, but I honestly couldn't give in. I'm older and therefore have the right to privy into any and every aspect of his life.

So.. I locked him out and broke onto his computer as he hammered on the door and ran to the kitchen to grab the screw driver and pick the lock. I opened microsoft word and speed-read this paragraph about what a nice, great, smart, and funny sister I was. It wouldn't seem like much of a big deal if you didn't know my relationship with my brother. "Fuck you, asshole" is a form of greeting to us. We consistently beat up on eachother and the taller and taller he grows forces me to watch the upper-hand completely slip away. We're so different and at the same time identical, and as he continued to try and break into the room, I exited out of the document and asked him what the name of his paper was again, because I couldn't find it.

I let him in and convinced him I hadn't read it. I guess he didn't want me to read it because he'd feel embarrassed or something, and I figured he was better off not knowing that I knew.