These past few days have been rough and hanging out with Phoebe was just what I needed to take my mind off things. As Phoebe rode that old broken down horse that was probably ridden by at least a million little kids, Phoebe’s blonde hair glistened in the sun and her baby blue eyes sparkled. She was truly beautiful and I knew that with years to come she would be flirted on my hundreds of women thirsty men. I imagined myself in a situation where a guy would say something nasty to my sister like, “Hey toots, want to come back to my place," and I would sock him in the face and tell him to tell all his friends never to mess with my sister. Phoebe got of the horse and walked toward me with a smile like no ones else. She asked me something that would change my life. She said, “Will you come home and talk to mom and dad?”. I really wanted to show Phoebe how mature and brave I was by saying yes, but I never really had a good relationship with my mom and dad. They would never support me on anything I did. For example I was in the NYC Little League Championship game. We ended up losing the game, but that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was Mr. Sanders, the father of my friend Timmy, telling me my parents couldn't make it because they were in Vegas gambling away my college savings. Ok Mr. Sanders didn't exactly say that but that’s what I interpreted his words as. I said yes to Phoebe and later on I figured out that, it was the right decision. I was never really good at whistling because my parents never taught me, so I asked Phoebe. She whistled so loud it sounded like a siren. It hurt that my parents taught her not me. I ignored it and decided to address the issue of my parents caring more about Phoebe than me later, when I see them. The cab reeked of alcohol and there was obviously some NYU college students who had just came from a party were in the cab the night before. The cab driver was small and had so much facial hair on hi