Chapter 1 – The Mother Once Said What the Sister Did

"Welcome home."

Her greeting felt numb, muffled by walls and doors. You could hear her steps closing in. They were on the wooden staircase, now in the corridor. A creaking and scratching indicated she had opened the door. Tap, tap, tap. The tapping got louder and mixed with the clacking after she had passed the carpet-decked living room. A second door, this time I could feel the gust of wind. I was turning the key, locking the door. She is in this room.

"Si – ster!"

She screamed, as I turned. Suddenly a heavy bundle of light blue ruffles and yellow ducks covered my face. The lump of clothing, comforting and warm, clapped her arms tightly around my neck. Now hanging like a monkey, I reached my hands out and held her up by her butt.

"Hey Annabel. How was your day?"

I used one hand to ruffle through the flame-like – no, sundown-coloured – hair, that had the same colour as my mother's hair. In comparison, I had inherited my ash-coloured hair from my father. May they rest in peace.

"Great!" She tightened her hug and pressed her warm body against mine. Instantly, I tightened my grip, hugging her back.

 "I missed you a lot." I gave her a kiss on top of her messed-up hair. I could feel that she opened her mouth. Tick, tock. Seconds passed and nothing was said, I simply held her.

"Me too. I always miss my family." The warm feeling in my chest got replaced by a colder, less-happy feeling. My breathing became deeper.

I wanted to answer, but no words I could say could mend those wounds. Sometimes, even professional help is hardly enough. Our family history was one of those things. Something you wished to forget but that was engraved into our brain.

Even today, I hate being out in the sunset, when the sky is painted red or when the shooting practice is going on. It sends shivers down my spine.

"Hey Ann, how does pizza sound?" I sighed and walked through the door into the living room. "Do you want the usual? Pineapple and ham?" She simply nodded her head and snuggled herself even closer into my embrace. I gave the servant, called Marianne, a light nod, and off she went.

"You know-" I sat down on the couch and pulled the blanket over her body. "You don't need to be so sacrificing, so strong or mature. You are a child, you can cry, flail, scream if I am home too late. Be angry if you're scared."

I paused and petted her head. "Just tell me."

She sniffled and rubbed her face on the blanket, to dry the tears.

She wants to pretend like she didn't cry, to show me that she is ok. To make it so that I can be at ease. It is fascinating how sensitive children are.

"Then I'd like some extra pineapple, please." She looked at me and smiled, at least it looked half-genuine.

The corners of my mouth slowly raised and I ran my hand through her hair again. "As much as you'd like."

The smile broadened.

"As much as you'd like."

This evening we had pizza with more pineapples than cheese on them. The little lady chewed, enjoying the taste, that for my taste was a tad too pineapple-flavoured.

"You know sister." She began right after I had read her a tale of the old wolf and the little girl. "If it were me, I would have a lamp and three wishes, I'd wish for the happiness of all children in the world."

I was glad that the lights were turned off and my sister couldn't see the darkened look on my face. Since long, I felt salty liquid form in my eyes.

"I am sure you would."

I gave her a kiss, turned and left her alone to fall asleep. Just when I had my hand on the doorknob, made of plastic, I stopped.

"I'd wish you'd wish exactly that. Good night. Love you."

"Me too. Good night, big sister."

With that the red door to my sister's room shut and I couldn't help but reminisce about the past as I passed by frames of long-past moments. Suddenly on the third step, I stopped.

I looked at the woman with the sundown-coloured hair and the beautiful freckles that I had inherited as well.

"Mother, Annabel said exactly the same. Happiness for all children." I tried to force a laugh as I traced her silhouette on the picture.

"She misses you, but since she is strong, she never cries. Just like you." I blinked. "I know it might be selfish. But really, I just need her to be happy. All I wish for is her happiness."

Only when I turned did I see Marianne carry a tray with lavender tea, that could help me fall into the never-ending hell of nightmares.

"Thank you, Marianne. Please place it on my bedside table." I stepped step-by-step, passing Marianne who was standing at the foot of the wooden staircase next to a beautiful family picture, with us at the beach.

"Miss." I stopped. Surprised to hear her speak to me. Usually, she would just silently nod and proceed to carry out the task. "You are not selfish for wishing that."

 I turned around, but she had already started to make her way towards my bed chamber. I'd love to know what face she made and what thoughts she had. After all, she had been here for as long as I can remember. With these lingering thoughts, I fell asleep once again. If I had known what was to come, I would have done everything to stay awake.