Chapter 3: Little Sister Problems

Time passes, and Liel meets a member of his strange family.

My ‘older’ sister, the youngest of the two, is the first person I will have met in the year I've been here. So, when we heard the door knocking, faintly, and from the lower half of the door, it was an obvious guess that it was Lehvie. That she had come alone was surprising, but not unbelievable.

Alice opened the door and Lehvie entered. Her hair and her eyes, they were just like mine. There is no doubt that we had the same blood running through our veins, though I know in truth that it isn’t that simple. When she looks to me as I stand on my cradle she begins to walk in my direction. Alice stands next to her and bows, closes the door softly behind Lehvie and follows after the little girl.

Once Lehvie is in front of me, standing in front of my cradle, I reach my hand out to her. She responds by doing the same and our hands make contact. I look down at her from my cradle, elevated just a few inches higher and it would be no different from the real me just bending slightly saying ‘hello.’ She smiles and I return the favor.

Lehvie is well fed and healthy proved by the pink of flush of her cheeks, puffy as it is, so there is no doubt that this is a good family. The one thing I wonder about is who looks after her if it isn’t my mother or Alice. That’s my guess, but Alice is almost always with me, the only time I can’t ascertain that is when I’m napping or really whenever I’m asleep. I could just be over thinking things, however, since I’ve not had the chance to leave the room this whole time. It’s too high to be the first floor. There is never a sound coming from the floors below, so we aren’t close to other rooms with people, that is my guess. There is just too much I don’t know about this place that tickles my curiosity to some degree.

“Lehvie,” I call out her name. Alice made me practice saying her name until I got it right, nothing beyond that, though. She didn’t call Glinn either when I said my first word, and it’s not like I could have asked. Lehvie stays silent for moment until she finally decides to return the greeting.

“Lee,” she calls me, making a nickname from out of thin air. I grab her find her and begin to shake it with motion. She smiles. The meeting doesn’t go farther than a physical handshake. Instead, Lehvie goes off into a corner where Alice has set up a small table followed by some plush toys of animals I couldn’t guess of their species, but I notice the stitching on the edges around the plush. These might have been handmade, perhaps. Alice brings a good three more and places them by the four in the corner with Lehvie.

My older sister wears a small frilly white dress, lined with red trims. When I think about it, there is no doubt that we live far from some sort of town or city. If we live on a farm, it would be believable with a city nearby as an excuse for them to wear such style in clothing, but there are no animals that I’ve heard making sounds the whole time I’ve been here. Not a bird that chirps, or an insect that buzzes through the air. Still, there is no reason why wearing such clothing for such an occasion would be so bad, but that my mother Glinn wears nothing but a dress every time she visits, it only peaks my interest. It gives off quite the strange feeling living in this house.

Lehvie continues playing with her stuffed toys, handing them tea filled cups. Luke warm from the looks of it as Alice would not likely hand Lehvie anything of higher temperature. The day has turned more into a play date than anything else, one that I’m not physically involved in. It is a change of scenery that I’ve perhaps longed for in the time since the the first month. Soon, I hope, I’d like to be able to speak properly, intentionally, and without any barriers keeping me from speaking my mind. Lehvie can prove to be an extension if I can get her to speak to me often enough so that conversation between anyone including my self will seem natural. That is to say, without the need to ‘act.’

Lehvie doesn’t converse with her stuffed toys, but instead just serves them actual tea. Alice proceeds with removing me from the cradle and has me sit on her lap, changing my shirt in the mean time and using a damp towel to clean my face, hands, and feet in that order. She bathed me earlier, but it’s already evening, not even half an hour ago I met for the first time with Lehvie.

The next thing Alice does is place me on the floor and lets me walk. Balancing myself carefully, I use the cradle to the left of me as support. Steadily hanging on to the wood frame, I walk to her trying not to fall miserably with my weak knees. Alice follows closely behind by the looks of her shadow though I don’t look back. A moment later however, I fall on my behind making a soft thud sound as I hit the floor. It doesn’t hurt as much as it would if I were much taller, closer to my real height than this. Thus, lending meaning to the bigger someone is, the harder they shall fall. Truth.

My sister visited the next day, doing the same routine and playing with her bears and strange animal plush toys. It goes on like that for a week and I can’t help but think she must be getting bored of doing the same thing, then again, she visits for no more than an hour and then leaves. Whatever she does outside those doors, it’s something I won’t know until I can properly ask or until I can leave the this room myself.

She certainly gets angry like my real sister would. A week later, doing the same thing, playing with her plush toys, I walk to Lehvie who continues serving tea. With some difficulty and definite improvement, I am able to more properly walk around the room, though Alice makes sure I stay far from the door, and this large room would allow enough space to do whatever necessary.

“Lehvie,” I call to her, she looks up to me by the time I get close enough to grab her shoulder for support.

“Yes?” She answers in a soft and gentle tone, and stops moving the tea cups around the table, having already served two of our plush guests. Lehvie is really like a stranger’s child to me, though it is like that, it doesn’t mean I dislike her for it. When Alice tells her to do something, Lehvie obeys. Quickly, and without hesitation. However, Lehvie can be really forceful if she doesn’t get her way. Like the other day, Lehvie came to my room, more stuffed toys in her arms and Alice warned not to bring too many inside the room. Lehvie wanted me to play with the new ones she brought, and I can tell she takes very much care for them. Not a torn or cut, not even a scent of dirt or dark stains cover any of her stuffed toys. It seemed fine for me to play with them, but Alice thought differently. My nanny Allice explained that having all these toys and plushies in this room wasn’t something Levi should do, and that it wasn’t safe for my well-being. Regardless, Lehvie kept bringing them in mass everyday until Alice gave up and made a compromise with someone barely a fourth her age. Despite that, Lehvie is well behaved, and I made sure to be ‘careful’ playing with the toys so that Alice would not worry. Eventually she calmed down.

Today was different. Lehvie said very little and only responded with a short word or two. Still, using her shoulders for support. It’s my fault. Lehvie isn’t my real sibling, I know that. The other day, as my body commanded, I fell asleep on her stuffed toys. This body isn’t meant to stay awake for long. It was really just a nap, for the length of it.. I dreamt of the usual. For the real sister I’ve been disconnected from, I saw her face and when I got out of that dream suddenly, Lehvie was staring at me. I had pushed her away by accident when I had opened my eyes and awoke from that dream. My real sister has brown hair, nothing like the strange red purple color we have. I don’t recall such an exotic color being distinct from any one nation or country. At some point I thought my short hair was colored intentionally while I slept or wasn't aware of it. However, there has never been that strange smell that goes along with the chemicals used in changing one’s hair color. Glinn has it, too, naturally, and I call it ‘dark red.’ Without certainty, it is most likely a mix of a dark purple, and only seemingly red under the right light. From far enough, it would very much be a black coloring to our eyes.

What color is a dead rose, weeks old and dry? I had pushed Lehvie aside that day and couldn’t help but stare at her hair. I’m sure she was sad that I did pushed her away, and I didn’t get a chance to apologize. Not that I didn’t want to, but because I’ve yet to hear the words to use as my own. I’m still a one year old, after all. Lehvie left that day and didn’t return until a few weeks later.

During that time I had gotten lost in thought, day after day, and night after night. Thinking about the past, even one about how my real sister used to take care of roses that were planted by the side of the foster-care house we used to live in. Then one day a neighbor’s kid cut the roses meant to be gifted to his mother for some reason or other. My sister responded by punching him on his jaw and took the flower back forcibly from his hands. After the small scuffle she tried planting the damaged roses back in their spot, watering them with what was probably a mix of the sweet nectar of liquids that plants desire and salty tears that were shed from my sister’s eyes.

Naturally, the plants didn’t last. She cried for what was probably hours. It was painful to watch, and it only got worse when I left her there in er room and I went off to apologize to the kid’s mom. I didn’t want to cause trouble for the people taking care of us, and there was no excuse for hitting another’s child. Even if the kid deserved it. Thinking about, however, it probably didn’t even hurt in the first place. On my way to the neighbor’s house, I couldn’t help but think about how differently the situation would have turned out had our parents lived long enough to experience the accident with us. Would they have taken the blame for us? Well it doesn’t matter, it can’t be helped and there is no reason for thinking deeply about something that already occurred.

As I apologized to the kid’s mom, she seemed understanding of the situation and I thanked her afterwards for listening. My sister’s face had dry streaks of tears running down her cheeks. She cried again when she saw me apologizing in her place. Having followed me when I thought she was still mourning her flowers. I should have noticed her trailing behind, but there’s nothing I can do about that anymore. We were later moved again to a different foster-care home. It was about two days after the incident, and we were expected to stay much longer. I was only around eight at the time, but I did hear that the kid’s mom, our neighbor, had dropped by the the foster home the same day of the incident.

...

I might have pushed Lehvie away intentionally, knowing that my weak developing body would never be enough to hurt her… physically. I sit down and take one of the cups for myself. Lehvie sat next to me from the first day having returned in the few weeks of her absence. I didn’t really see her for who she was at first. To me, she is a constant reminder, added to other small things, that I have yet to return home. I haven’t seen my real sister in over a year and I don’t expect that to become a reality soon, not even in the next decade.

Is someone taking care of her? There was a long pause. Lehvie serves me her tea,carefully not to spill any and staying quiet in the meantime. Salty liquids fall from my eyes and into my cup. I cleaned the ones about to fall with the sleeve of my shirt and looked to Lehvie. She might not be my real sister, but to her I definitely am her younger brother. A strange way of saying things, but still. The one thing I can do to apologize for what happened those few weeks ago is hug her, and so I do.

End.

Author's Note

You can keep reading ahead on my site at Litsnovel.com