Composition title: My brothers and sisters.

The names of brothers and sisters in our school are as inviolable as iron laws. When I was a freshman, I used to call a handsome brother "Senior". Then my brother said with a straight face, "Call my brother". Later, I came to understand that "seniors and sisters" only represent the same school, while "brothers and sisters" symbolize inheritance.

A sentence that college girls will say is called "fire prevention and anti-theft", but in fact it is really reliable sometimes. My good friend Hui often tells a story like this: I went home during the winter vacation and got off with my brother from another college: "Sister, let me help you with your suitcase." "No need." "I have to cross the overpass later." "Thank you, brother."

This senior has nothing to do with Hui, and there is no such thing as "bad intentions". This is not gentlemanly, but true love. When we were brothers and sisters, we were loved by them and went through the loneliness of leaving home. Then we continue to guard another group of strangers. They have traveled the way we want to go, and their experiences have been told to the next group of people.

As usual, we should be sad after graduation, but it is always our brothers and sisters who make us cry, the people we used to rely on most. A senior who graduated last year wrote such a status in everyone's diary a few days ago: "Students in the same grade can still look forward to the party, and those familiar brothers and sisters may never see it again." Hui, whose mood is not stable, burst into tears in front of the computer.

On the day I left, I received a text message from Sister Min, who stayed in school for postgraduate study. "Go, the plane will take you to a place where you can make great achievements, where you can fight for yourself and your dreams ... I want to cry in the dormitory to the youth that we will die." I cried in the dormitory with my suitcase in my arms, crying that "youth is always there".