Laughter
I sat still, my mouth quivering and my brain everywhere. The hardest part of being a sibling is trying not to laugh at the others stupid jokes. It's something no one would expect to be so hard. It's like an itch on your nose that you get right after being told not to move. You so badly want to let out the laughter, but you can't let them know you find their joke funny. The worst part is when it's not even slightly funny and you really want to mock them by not laughing, but that thought causes you to erupt. That's when my mouth opened and I couldn't stop it. My stomach began to hurt, and the breath escaped my lungs. I tried to look up and see what kind of reaction she was giving me. And there she was just staring at me, like something was severely wrong with me. She had told a joke hadn't she? Then suddenly the look on her face dissolved, she had only been acting. She was laughing too, now, barely able to stay in her chair. I was never less clutching my stomach trying to dismiss the joyful pains of the laughter. I tried to speak, but all that came out was more laughter. Which consequently only made her laugh harder. Then she tried to speak getting out two words before my laughter caused her to start laughing again. I sucked in a deep breath and started speaking, but the laughter consumed me once again. At this point neither of us could even remember what we had been laughing about in the first place, but who cared. We were happy, even if we were both about to die of laughter. We were happy.