Being possesive, she kept cuddling me, and i was doing the same, but i was mostly a receiver than a giver. after a relative eternity, she began to rol... her hands under my shirt, cudding my torso, and she invited me to do the same. at the moment of the invitation, i got embarassed and freezed, but she said me to dont worry, so i breaked the ice and started touching her forearms, then i slipped my hands under her shirt, sliding from front to rear of her torso, then i finally arrived to her rib. “Look at me, Angie. I am your sister. I am you,” she pleaded.“I hate you even more then I hate her because you are the one our Mother chose and I am the one she gave away! You go to hell, too!”Angie’s voice was cold as ice, hatred and resentment spewing forth with every syllable.I could understand Angie’s anguish from her feeling of abandonment. It must be horrible to think your mother is dead, to grow up without her, only to find she is alive and has never once tried to see you. As great a. More

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