Chapter Text
You never asked, but you were curious why your skin colour never matched theirs. Every time you came home from elementary school, you carried the echoes of adoption and ignorance in your head. Sometimes your brother would ask, “What’s wrong?” and take your hand as you weave through narrow streets and dark alleys, but all you could do was stare at his hand and compare the stark contrast of brown and white.
He’d catch you staring then he’d smile and say, “You’ve got the best eyes, little sis.”
He always argued that they looked similar with your father’s own pair, but he was lying for your sake because all of them had brown eyes and yours were blue; maybe that was okay because the only thing that registered to you was that he called you his little sister.
(From then on, you grew to love brown eyes, that their beauty is seen in the light of a smile.)
//
You loved words and the sound of your father’s voice. He’d come home straight from work; his clothes were stained with cement and he smelled like sweat and paint, but you’d settle on his lap for a good story. He’d tell you stories of his childhood, how he made wooden airplanes that fly and star-shaped lanterns for Christmas. Sometimes, he’d tell you about dragons and princesses, how they always got together, which earned a scoff from your mother; then your father would whisper that she was a fire-breathing dragon and he was the quiet princess.
When it was time for bed, you would beg for another story, but your father would shake his head so you would tug at his shirt and he would relent, but he would tell you stories of evil spirits and kapres and goblins. You’d hide under your blanket but the darkness, too, was scary. You’d ask him to stay with you for the night. He did and you learned that he’d tell you those stories so he’d have a reason to hold you close and make sure you remember that you were his daughter.
(One day, you’d tell stories about him.)
//
It was December 21, 2012 and someone told you that the world would end, but you shrugged it off because you knew that the world would miss this tiny human in your arms. You were sure she’d have a flat nose like your father and round eyes like your mother. (You knew even though they were still closed) You kissed her forehead and placed her back in her crib.
(“Little Annie,” you say, “I hope Joric can see you now if only he hadn’t left.”)
//
You were sixteen and with two years left in high school, when your homeroom teacher excused you from your class. Your blood froze when she asked you to bring your bag along because you knew that meant being sent home. Your worst fear had come when you’d return home as a disappointment because of school, but you knew you had done nothing wrong. You didn’t know that worse things could happen. Like finding out your dad involved in an accident.
You were glad to know that he was alive, but you had never seen him broken before. A metal beam had fallen on him and hurt his back, which apparently messed up his nervous system; now he can’t walk. You saw your mother cry over your father, the hospital fees, working another job and your tuition fees. And Little Annie. Oh God. Even though the government would support you with the child tax benefit, that didn’t mean it could help you all the way.
That night when you came home with your mother, you hugged her so tight and she felt so small in your arms. She told you about how your father’s employer messed up the papers to file the claim and now, you wouldn’t receive the compensation that your family needed. You promised to help and stop school after Grade 10 and work full time, but your mother stepped away from you and with teary eyes she said:
“But I don’t want to take that away from you. Danny, you deserve all the best in this world.”
“I have the best family in the world and that’s all I need.”
You hugged her again and cried along with her. She could’ve left you to die on that street. She could’ve just walked away, but your parents gave you everything that you needed. Forehead kisses when you were four and afraid of the dark. Kisses on the knees when you stumbled while playing basketball with your brother. Sweet spaghetti and hotdogs and marshmallows on your birthdays.
You’d give up everything for Annie to have that too. You’d be the one telling her stories of dragons and princesses, and sometimes pirates too. You’d be the one carrying her on your back and making her feel like she’s at the peak of a mountain and her fingers could touch the clouds. And you’d be the one singing to her at night and snuggle close to her when she’s scared of the dark. No one should ever take happiness away from her.
(Education can wait another day.)
//
You weren’t sure how to be a mother, but you knew how to love and maybe that’s enough to take care of your little sister. You didn’t know what to do when she first started to cry. You panicked and carried her while pacing around the room. You patted her back and thought that maybe this would calm her down but it never did and you thank the heavens that your father started speaking to you again when he suggested that maybe Annie was hungry. And in fact, she was.
Then you grew accustomed to it and could differentiate from changing her diaper and getting hungry. You also discovered that there were different times for laughs too. Sometimes she loved you blowing a raspberry on her stomach and sometimes she’s not amused with a peek a boo, but she always loved it when your father would throw her up in the air.
When Annie turned one, you were excited to teach her how to walk. You’d hold her little hands and guide her own her first steps; then, you let go of one hand and after a while, the other one as well. You sat down on the floor by your father’s bed as you wait for her to come walking to you. She reached out her hands to you as if to balance herself on her feet. Most of the times, she sat back down and crawled. You couldn’t scold her for it because she was little, knew little, and understood little, but you’d patiently teach her because you couldn’t wait to play hide and seek with her. It took six months for her to master the skill but you were so so glad because the first time she walked into your arms, she uttered the first syllable of your name.
You cried.
(These were the days when your mother was away, working, and you loved her in your own way.)
//
It was the dead of the night and it wasn’t your favourite shift, but it was a better pay than nothing. You worked at a 24/7 convenience store that your dad’s friend owned. You always wondered who would be buying at two in the morning except for the occasional drunks. You thanked God that you were strong and knew a few tricks in the art of self-defense.
You heard the ring of the bell; a young girl dragged her father into the store. She looked the same age as you except maybe younger. She ran to the food aisle and grabbed four bags of cookies, which she dumped on the counter in front of you.
“Are you sure, Laura?” her father said as he fumbled for his wallet.
The girl smiled sweetly in reply. (You saw the sparkle in her brown eyes.) Her father sighed.
“We’re a little bit jetlagged. Just moved into town,” he explained. You smiled and accepted his cash.
You gave Laura (that was the name you heard) the bag because somehow, you knew she’d open one of the packages and start munching on one cookie. You were right when you hear them laughing as they exit because her father had chided her about eating before even getting back to the car.
(Sometimes you wish that you could walk and laugh with your dad again.)