one two { three four } jb.

I saw Sissy and the tears ran. Quietly though. Then when the door shut I let out a sob, sharp and guttural - I hope Mom and Dad pay attention to her now. They looked something resembling guilty as they trailed in after my little sister, unsure how to comfort their two daughters. Maybe me dying is the best thing that could happen for her. For them. Maybe in my death they'll learn how to be parents.

Doubt it. And when the door handle twists again I jump, unexpected - quickly wiping tears away with the sleeve of my jumper. Sissy had brought it with her, wrapped tightly in her arms, and I put it on immediately to comfort her, trying to laugh as the too-long sleeves flopped over my hands. Good thing it's thick fabric - tissues won't cut it, a sad looking box left on a wooden coffee table in the corner.

"Oh," blinking through the surprise, heart racing, cheeks blushing from more than the rush of hot tears. "It's you!"

There he is: Four.

"Well," a sad little smile, looking at my feet, a shrug, tiny sniffles. Too-small girl in a too-big jumper that stops at knobbly knees. I've never been able to look him in the eyes without losing my train of thought. Guess I'll just stare at the floor instead.

"Guess you know my real name now."