The worst fight my sister and I ever got into was when I was 1 and we were at my grandma's house. I was in the room reading on the bottom bunk bed and my sister was playing on the top bunk. My sister decided she wanted to reenact her own version of the story the boy who cried wolf. She would lean over the edge and pretend that she w

She would do or say anything to accomplish this. She would say I did something even though I didn't and she would tattle on me for everything. One of her favorite things to do was break something or do something and then blames it on me. Usually her little schemes worked, especially with our dad. Somehow she managed to convince him that my pulling her of the bed was a pure act of evil and not an accident. So even though I rarely did anything to get myself in trouble, I was always grounded.

as falling. I would stop reading to jump up to help her, but she would just start laughing at me because she wasn't really falling. This continued for a while and being the gullible 12-year-old I was, I kept jumping up to help her. Each time, being the bratty 9-year-old she was, she just ended up laughing in my face. The next time she

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