Outside the window, my sister’s thin body floated in the night sky, holding her finger, smiling sweetly and happily, as if saying: “Sister, you finally see me, I didn’t lie to you, keep playing with me!” 

The psychologist said that I was too frightened and felt deeply guilty. That very kind psychologist would come to talk to me every night, mostly about my sister. 

He said that my sister never hated me, let alone disliked me. She just liked me, wanted to play with me, and wanted me to pay attention to her. 

He also said that after my sister became stupid, she found that I had become more distant from her. She thought I ignored her because she lied to me. She wanted to change my opinion of her and play with her again. That’s why she repeated that sentence and then climbed to my window to prove that there was really someone outside and that she didn’t lie to me. 

It turned out that everything my sister had done was to get my love. 

The doctor patted my shoulder and said, "Sister, I've never hated you, not even now." 

I stared at him blankly, then raised my hand expressionlessly and pointed out the window, "There's someone outside." 

The doctor was startled. Turning around, he saw a uniformed man diligently pruning the branches of a large locust tree. 

They did this every year at this time of year to prevent the overgrown branches from snagging the power lines in the strong wind.

END