When I was ten, I was an immature little brat.
I'm sure I didn't think it at the time, but looking back now, I don't know how I did it. All I thought about was school, friends, games and nothing of any substance.
I didn't have any responsibilities, and I liked it that way. Whenever someone tried to make me do something nice, I would always complain vehemently.
And birthdays! Wow, all they were were an excuse to have lots of friends over to party and get tons of presents. I never thought about actually getting older or anything.
And then I turned eleven.
And nothing changed.
I had another huge party, got lots of great gifts, and I grew ever so slightly taller. That was it. I didn't get any smarter or wiser. Heck, I barely got any older.
And then I turned twelve.
And then I turned thirteen.
And I kept going.
I finally began to appreciate life, and my role in it. I was responsible for my own actions, and I had to make them count.
Of course, knowing something is very different from practising it in everyday life. I had a sister, seven years my junior, and we were little terrors together. I mean, sure, we loved each other, but that didn't always show. We were like any other siblings in the world. 90% of the time, we annoyed the shit out of each-other, and the rest was spent lovingly playing stupid games together. It was great. It used to be great.
But everything changed soon after I turned eighteen.
I was an adult now. I didn't feel too different, but now I could drink
legally, and drive a car, and other things that sounded super cool.
But today it wasn't about me, it was about my sister. Today was her birthday, and she was turning eleven.
I was so happy for her. In a few years, she would start her journey to the real world, but for now, she was just my cute little sister, celebrating a joyous birthday.
The family and I were all sitting around the table, snacking on some delicious cake. Everything was fine, great even. Then I glanced at my
watch, 9:04pm. It was getting late.
And exactly one minute later, everything changed forever. At 9:05pm on my sister's eleventh birthday, everything began to change.
Suddenly there was a large barn owl right outside our window, tapping away at the glass. I had never seen an owl this close before, and neither had anyone else in the family. My parents jumped up and began panicking, trying to call people and fetch a broom.
My sister and I just stared at the owl, and I noticed two important details. 1) The owl had a large letter tied to its leg. And 2) and most importantly, it was staring straight into my sister's eyes. I recognised this in slight fear. Some-one was delivering a letter to my sister via owl? It didn't make sense! No-one did that! But I knew it had to be true, there was no other explanation.
So I looked my sister, who was staring into the eyes of the owl, and I made my choice. I slowly got up from the table, and walked around to the windows. The owl didn't even glance at me as with trembling fingers, I slowly reached out and pulled open the window, just enough for it to squeeze through. And squeeze through it the owl did, and flew like an arrow towards my sister.
It stopped in front of her on the table, and help out its leg that had the letter strapped around it. My sister, still staring into the owls eyes, reached out and kindly took the proffered letter.
Once free of its burden, the owl leapt up and attempted to leave through the same window it had entered. But by then my parents had realised there was an owl in their house, and were vainly trying to shoo it everywhere except out the window.
But I wasn't focused on them, I was focused on my sister. She was sitting there, looking very small, staring at the letter in her hands.
It was huge, and very thick, and had my sisters name and address on it in swirly, green writing. It really was a letter for her.
My sister turned to look at me, and I looked back. Throughout the years, she had looked up to me in a way only sisters can. I always tried to be there for her whenever, whatever, however she needed me. And right now, she needed my to say this.
"Open it", I whispered softly.
My sister paused for a moment, then nodded. She turned back to the letter, and taking a deep breath, quickly flipped it over and jerked it open.
Then she slowly pulled out the thick letter inside, and unfolded it's many pages to read the first lines.
I watched my sister as her eyes started bulging out of her forehead, and her breathing came in short gasps. I was starting to get a little worried when she suddenly leapt up and started running around the room, screaming something about school and magic.
It all happened very quickly then. A strange lady wearing an old fashioned dress turned up on our doorstep, and after helping my parents get rid of the highly distressed owl, she sat down with us all for a talk.
Throughout the whole explanation of a secret world and a dead, magical uncle, I couldn't help but stare at my sister. She was ecstatic. Always squealing and almost leaping out of her chair with every new secret she was learning.
But all my surprised brain could register was that my sister would be leaving. Going to a world where I could never follow. Learning things I could never begin to understand. Leaving us, for at least seven years.
After that, my sister began to disappear at strange times. My parents got a bit worried, but later my sister simply assured them that the lady, Mrs Wintershire, was a witch who was helping her get ready for her new school.
The months went by so fast after that. Soon, it was September 1st, the day my sister was leaving. We all drove the long road down to the station. Once there unpacked all of my sister's strange new belongings, including a dusky brown owl that kept eyeing me like it was very hungry.
But when we got to the platform, Mrs Wintershire was waiting. She explained how we couldn't go through to the actual train with my sister, so we would have to say good-bye here.
My parents gave tearful farewells, with much kissing and promising. I was dry-eyed as I approached my sister. So young to be going off alone. So young to be without me, or her family. But I knew she had to go.
That didn't make it any easier. I leant down in front of her, and looked her in the eyes. Even today, I hope she knew all the love and hope I put into that expression. I gave her one, final hug, and then she was off. My sister basically disappeared with Mrs Wintershire.
And my parents and I were left alone. Standing on a train platform, missing one integral part of out family.
My sister came to visit once in a while. During her time at school, she visited twice a year for varying periods of time. But she was always distracted, simply waiting to go back to her world. She no longer belonged in mine. I couldn't understand the classes she told us about, or the strange objects she came home with. It was so hard.
After the seven years were up, she came home for a couple of weeks. A grown woman in her own right, who didn't fit in in our humble house. She didn't stay long.
After that, we were lucky to get a visit once a year. I moved out of my parents house, into an apartment of my own. I had a job, a boyfriend, a life. I didn't even know where my sister was most of the time, let alone what she was doing.
I told her about my wedding, and she was nice enough to send an owl on the day, which almost ruined the celebrations by dropping head-first into the punch. But she didn't show up herself.
It's been many, many years since I saw her. My own flesh and blood, my sister. I miss her so much sometimes, I cry for hours on end. My husband tries to comfort me, but he doesn't understand, and I don't tell him. It's my burden to bear, mine and my sister's.
And it all started when she turned eleven.
By Fearthetwiggy (c) 16/6/2009
Authors Note: At the time of writing this fic, I am eighteen and I do have a little sister that just turned eleven…
