My sister Monica.

"ELLEN! Why are you taking so damn long?" she yells stomping on through my room. She sees me on my made bed looking at the only possession I adored the most. "Why are you looking at the picture of dad, huh?" she says in a teasing voice yanking the picture frame out of my hands. "You of all people should just believe that he's gone and he's not coming back--"

I interrupt, "Take that back, Monica!" I reach for the picture frame but Monica moves it beyond my reach.

Having enough to deal with already, my mother storms up the stairs and into my room, hitting Monica on the shoulder in the process.

"Oww, what was that for?" Monica protests.

"You are too loud for your own good, y'know," my mother says. "The taxi's downstairs for you information."

"I'm coming Mom," I tell her.

"Monica, help her with her luggage," my mother orders her.

Ten minutes later, I find myself outside with my hood up, due to the rain that has started to come down. The driver, not expecting the rain and covering his head with a magazine, opens the door to the passenger area immediately and also opens the trunk to take my hefty luggage and put them in the back. My sister drastically tries not to get her hair or her expensive clothes wet.

Before entering the car, I let my face get wet with the rain and the initial tears starting to form as I take in the picture of home one last time. I can see the faces of my sister and my mother starting to well up in tears.

As I enter the taxi, I see my mother run into the house like she is so **** to get out of the rain or finally glad to have me out of the house. Surprisingly, I see my sister look back in confusion to my mother's action. The taxi driver, ignore all the scenes happening and puts his vehicle in gear. As the car starts to advance down the street, I finally see my mother run out of the house and seeing that the car is already leaving, dashes out in the rain to give me something. I drastically tell the driver to stop and he obeys, but keeps the meter running. I roll down my windows and let the pouring rain seep in. I can already see a disgusted and wet face of the driver. Now looking at the face of my mother, all saturated in the morning downpour, I see that she wanted to give me something before I left for Neo-Francisco.