Memorial Day Narrative

“Get out!” she screamed annoyed, but with hesitation, as I tried to go into the bedroom.
It was Memorial Day weekend and we went to St. George Island. She was infatuated with the beach, but this time all she did was lay in bed with her laptop; someone who is usually exhilarated about the beach, only wanted to stay by herself. I had been living with Kim and my dad for two years. Kim was my father’s new wife. The two of them were married for around 5 years and had a daughter together, Brianna, who was seven at the time. We were assigned chores and ate dinner together every night. For the most part, we were a conventional family.
Even though I was young, I knew something was out of the ordinary with her, I was not extremely fond of her at that time, but she was usually not that cruel. Being that I really just got settled in, I was extremely distressed that everything was going to change again. I wondered where I was going to live or if I would ever get to see my little sister again. It was petrifying thought all together. The entire weekend was unordinary and it felt like every single person in that beach house was walking on
The moment we pulled up Kim started barking orders, telling Bri and me where to take what bag where, as she just sat on the back of the SUV. I felt extremely aggravated, as we were just children and starving because she would not stop to get us lunch. I mumbled to myself and did as she asked. When all the bags were unloaded, my dad told us to go to our room and do not come out until he says so. Feeling even more aggravated that I am again trapped with Brianna after a long car ride, I sat in silence. The arguing began again, so Brianna and I pressed our tiny ears against the window to the yard as the growling of frustration grew louder and louder. Today, I do not remember was said, as it now only matters what was to