Little Sister

A little girl stared at the picture book in her hand, reading the tiny letters easily. She had poured over this book multiple times and knew it from front to back, yet she still seriously read it over and over, page by page.

It was a simple book, talking about a small bird that flew out into the world, experiencing the beauty and wonders of nature. It was a happy book, one that glossed over the reality of life and focused on the happy things that didn't exist unless you went to a specific place.

It was supposed to allow kids to imagine flying as a bird, carefree amidst the world of adults.

The little girl knew this well, so well that she had already known that it was a delusion to be discarded once she got older. She held no hopes for something that amazing, like being able to fly.

At least for her. In this dingy, dark room where the only light came from the window, her hopes had been long crushed under the weight of reality.

And the bruises on her body anchored her to the ground.

The little girl seemed to stare at the ceiling for a bit, then at the window, staring out into the sun as though it didn't hurt her eyes at all. Seeing that the sun seemed to be setting, she stood up shakily, walking out of the room that she was hiding in. The book was left on the ground, abandoned like it's owner.

A drunk figure came into sight as she walked down the stairs, alcohol bottles littered around their body. Low mumbles could be heard from said figure, as another bottle was pulled to their mouth. The little girl stared curiously at the figure, before seemingly deeming it safe enough to go close.

Little footsteps sounded out on the wooden floor as the girl padded towards the figure, squatting beside it. A light, airy, childish voice sounded out, the words carrying a taste of someone who had matured far beyond their age.

"Why do birds fly?" A small hand sneaked out of the big, long sleeved shirt loosely draped onto her body, poking at the arm of the figure.

The figure seemed to stir slightly, before swatting her hand away. However, because of the tired, drunken state that they were in, it didn't even hurt. The next words that they did say hurt the girl, though.

"Ha? Birds? Go look that up yourself. And go away, you bastard child."

The figure slammed their arm into the ground, causing a loud thud to sound out in the otherwise quiet room. The girl lowered her eyes, before standing up and walking away, the little footsteps pattering further and further away from the figure.

The little girl walked all the way to the park.

The sunset was perfect, lighting up just enough for you to see in front of you, yet didn't glare down harshly. It was the perfect time to play at the playground, so of course, naturally, children were playing happily, their guardians watching over them carefully.

Arriving at the playground, the little girl only glanced at the playing children, before squatting down in her own corner of the sand pit, which all the kids had dubbed 'the weird corner'. It was probably because she was always there, drawing in the sand and ignoring the rest of the kids.

Of course, that was what she did. She drew.

A bird. Two birds. Three birds. Multiple birds. Flying high in the sky. However, she was unable to draw well, so the birds looked skewed, as though they were falling out of the sky instead of flying. Though, that didn't deter her at all.

She continued, drawing more and more birds. The entire sand pit was filled with birds now, all in the same style and skewed to one side. There might actually be another reason why it was called weird corner, and it may have something to do with birds.

However, that was the least of her priorities. The birds, who covered the whole sand pit, were more important.

As she moved forwards to draw another bird in the sand, a larger, smooth hand came into view suddenly. The hand was quick, drawing a bird in the sand. It was a cute bird, filled with a liveliness which she was unable to capture in most of her ones. Curious, she looked upwards, only to see a older girl.

Older girls were usually quite scary, for no apparent reason. She just knew that they were scary and avoided them because of it.

However, this older girl didn't laugh at her for having loose, dirty clothes, or dangle candy in front of her like that was the only thing children wanted. She merely sighed when she saw the little girl scoot away slightly.

"…Figures. I can't do anything about it anyways." Saying this, the older girl drew another bird in the sand. Once again, it looked better then anything the little girl had drawn. It wasn't skewed, for one.

It was once again, full of life, the complete opposite of the little girl's birds. Seeing it, the little girl couldn't help but get closer once again.

The older girl carried herself with a sense of grace, posture straight even when squatting. If it weren't for the fact that she looked odd when trying to draw in the pit, frowning as though it was a difficult task, the little girl would've thought that she had done this countless of times.

However, despite this, the little birds were still as lively as ever, frolicking around in the sand pit and painting the girl's imagination. She would have beautiful dreams tonight, filled with happy birds that would take her away from the reality that she was born into.

In fact, if the little girl tried really hard, she could almost see them fly out of the sand pit, dancing around her cheerfully.

High up into the sky, flying far, far away.

Somehow, the little girl wanted to ask the older girl, who she had classified under older sister, the same question that she asked the drunken figure.

"Older sister, how do birds fly?"

Hearing the little girl talk to her, the older sister was surprised. She quickly got her emotions under control though, drawing another bird.

Strangely enough, the little bird seemed to reflect its owner's emotions, looking shocked as well, an emotion that the little girl never thought she would see on a sand bird.

"How do birds fly…" The older sister pondered, the hand that had not touched the sand twisting a lock of black hair. She stayed in that state for a long time, before replying seriously.

"When they first come into the world, there is a little god up there."

"A little god?"

"Yes. Around your height. A cute little god." Saying this, the older sister drew a smiley face onto the sand. It was a cute face, looking like it had jumped straight out of a cartoon. The little girl briefly wondered if the older sister was an artist, with how pretty her creations came out to look.

"This god… will grant little birds the ability to fly. The little god will check their books to make sure that they have been good. If they have, the little god will grant them the ability to fly."

Saying this, the older sister made a face, as though she didn't really believe herself either.

The little girl suddenly didn't have the heart to tell the older sister that she knew that she was lying.

In fact, the little girl already knew the answer to this question. She was just asking because that was the only thing that she could think of to say.

However, seeing the older sister speak so seriously, as though it was a very important question, made the little girl uncomfortable, a strange emotion welling up in her usually calm heart.

She couldn't help but feel entranced by the concept, the scene naturally bubbling up in her eyes. A little god ticking off checkboxes on a notepad, making sure that the little birdies who had been good could fly.

Immersed in the scene, she unconsciously spoke out another sentence.

"Then… if I am a good child, will I be able to fly one day?"

The older sister paused again. This time, she took an even longer time to respond, the hair lock that she was twisting move slower.

"Yes. Yes you will." Such a simple answer, yet she said it with such a serious face.

For a second, the little girl almost believed her.

A smile bloomed on the little girl's face. She nodded seriously, as though she truly believed what the older sister said. This older sister was cute, regardless of her appearance.

So, they met at the sand pit every day at the same time, repeating the same routine again and again. The little girl would ask a question and the older sister would respond seriously. The little girl would then nod seriously as well, pretending that what the older sister said was real.

Inside her head, a beautiful paradise popped up, where birds frolicked with fish, where fairies existed behind every tree and where little gods ticked boxes to make sure that you behaved.

With that, the older sister seemed to hollow out. Every time the world inside the little girl's head got richer, the older sister would look a little more tired, a little paler. Her hair started to thin rapidly on the fourth meeting and on the tenth, she came in on a wheelchair, pushing it slowly.

On the first meeting, the little girl had already knew that there was something wrong with the older sister. Her sickly, thin body and tired appearance told a story far darker than the one the older sister told.

However, because neither of them said anything, it festered in the corners of the conversation, a silent elephant in the room that neither party wanted to address.

When it came to the fifteen meeting, the little girl stood up, brushed away the sand on her knees, and walked away. The sand pit was filled with crooked birds that vainly tried to imitate a beautiful cartoon one drawn on a piece of paper that the little girl clutched in her hand.

However, not a singular sand bird was drawn like the piece of paper.

Walking back to her house, she watched as people took away the one that gave her another set of bruises, the one who glared at her hatefully the moment she walked in sight.

She didn't bother even looking in the figure's direction, walking up to her room, the piece of paper clutched in her hand tightly. There, she looked down at the ground, her eyes startlingly empty.

And she stayed like that through the adoption process, through the complicated looks everyone gave her, till she was dolled up in black and stood in front of a picture of the older sister that she was waiting for at the playground.

Death from a terminal illness. It seemed that she had very little time to live and so forced her way out to see the world before she died. Thankfully, she died happily, smiling her way into peaceful slumber.

The little girl went back to her new room, which was beautifully furnished like the designer had placed a lot of effort into it. A bookshelf stood on one side, filled with different books about happy animals that lived in harmony in a big forest where fairies and little gods existed, all hand written with cute little drawings on one different pages.

She took one of these books and walked to the fluffy bed, opening it to a random page. It depicted a bird with its wings spread wide, flapping as though it would come out of the book.

The little girl hugged her knees, staring at the page. She could hear whispers outside, muttering about her sudden appearance. It was quiet times like these where she thought about the older sister in great detail, even down to the first bird that she drew on the sand. Unconsciously, she pulled at a lock of hair, muttering.

"I'll be a good girl. In exchange, instead of flight, just come and talk to me again."

She hugged her knees tighter, turning herself into a small ball.

Although she knew that being a good girl didn't get her anywhere, for the sake of the older sister who spoke so seriously about birds, she was willing to play along.