At first, Amelia had been very nervous to get close to her new step-sister. Rose was just so tall and elegant and a little bit scary when the little girl couldn't understand her funny accent.
But her daddy liked her, and they spent to time together. No one could be bad if her daddy liked them!
The then four-year-old approached the then 15-year-old Brit, staring curiously. It wasn't until a minute or so later that Rose glanced up from her book and noticed her visitor.
"Whatcha doin'?" The little one asked, tilting her head.
"Reading," the elder of the two replied. She was meant to be babysitting her younger step-sister for the night, but Amelia had been avoiding her since the day she and her mum had moved into the home.
"Oh," Amelia responded simply. "I can't read yet, but Daddy says I'm gonna when I'm older! He reads ta me lots—will ya read ta me?"
Taken aback by the request, Rose's mouth opened, but no sound came out. She'd never had a younger sister, just brothers, and they had grown or left with her father long ago. Is this what siblings did together? How an older sister could take care of the younger?
"I-I'd be happy to, Amelia!" Rose stuttered, picking up the four year old and placing her carefully in her lap.
The two read long into the night, far past Amelia's bedtime. Somewhere around 10 in the evening, Rose felt Amelia's weight become heavier; she'd fallen asleep in her lap, soothed and contented.
Marking her page, Rose stood, carrying Amelia very carefully to her bedroom across the hall. Upon being placed in the bed, the little one stirred.
"Rosie?" She mumbled, blearily opening her eyes.
"Shhh, darling, go back to sleep," Rose whispered, pulling the covers over her little body. And she did, wearing a soft smile.
That was 3 years ago, and much had changed.
After two years had passed, Rose's mother died very suddenly, hit by a man who had carelessly run through a red light. The beautiful woman on the crosswalk didn't stand a chance against the SUV.
Rose was more than heartbroken, Amelia crying just as much. This was the second mother she had lost in her 6 years of life. Just as upsetting was seeing her older sister, to whom she had grown very close, and her father, who she loved more than all the candy in the world, so hurt. This was her family, and somebody had broken it.
Alfred, the family patriarch, had to pick up more shifts at the local police station. Rose and Amelia would need more for their university funds, and they just wouldn't have enough without Rose's mother.
Rose, too, got a job—two if caring for Amelia more often counted as a job rather than a labor of love. Their neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Beilschmidt, often babysat so Rose could take more shifts as a waitress (but Amelia couldn't pronounce that name, so Mr. and Mrs. B came up in conversation far more). Other times, Amelia sat in the restaurant with coloring books or a movie, stopping to talk to each server and bus-boy when she could. She was the child the village was raising.
It was, however, on a particular Friday evening in the hot summer that Rose worked alone, and Mr. B was baking cookies with Amelia to surprise her sister. But when the phone rang, and Mr. B looked so concerned, Amelia began to get nervous. Rose was already half an hour late, and she was never late for anything! What if something horrible had happened again?
Amelia's daddy retrieved her that evening, assuring her that Rose would be home later. And she was, but it was already 11 at night when she came into Amelia's room.
The little girl, who usually slept very heavily, could not have awoken more quickly. She was too worried to sleep well, and seeing Rose covered in bandages didn't ease her much. Still, Rose was home, and that meant the worst had not come to her family again.
"Rosie!" She gasped. "You're home!"
"Yes," the Brit chuckled tiredly, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. "And I saw your gift, they look delicious. Perhaps we'll have them for breakfast tomorrow if your father isn't home," she joked, running her fingers through Amelia's short hair. "But first, you need to sleep—"
"No!" Amelia begged, pulling her hand back. "Stay with me? Pretty please! I don' wantcha ta go!"
"Well... Alright," Rose conceded, Amelia cheering quietly and moved over in her bed to let Rose slide in with her under the covers. She winced, and noticeably so, but quickly became contented as sleep threatened to swallow her.
Rose thought nothing of taking Amelia's hand beneath the covers. It felt natural. To Amelia, however, it was incredibly comforting. Her world was still whole, all was well.
"Does it hurt much?" The seven-year-old asked, watching her sister. She had dropped the 'step' from the title long ago; this was her sister and that was final.
"No, darling," Rose yawned, wanting to put her mind at ease. For someone so young, Amelia worried far too much for her liking. She shouldn't have to, not at all...
"Well... How didja get it?" She asked, unable to stop herself. That was a really big bandage on her arm, and it smelled kinda funny. This little bandaids on the rest of her didn't make Amelia as nervous. They were just like when she fell on the playground last week and cut her knee, but it healed really fast!
In actuality, Rose had been badly burned by cooking oil after a chef had turned too quickly and without notice. Rose, who had been carrying some dirty dishes, had promptly dropped them, shards of ceramic flying. But Rose couldn't tell Amelia that! No, she would settle on something much nicer for the little one's psyche.
"Fighting all the nasty monsters under the bed for you, darling," Rose muttered, her eyes beginning to close.
"Oh..." Amelia nodded. That made sense! They must had really put up a fight! But her stuffed animals were safe now, and so was Rose. "Thanks Big Sis."
"Anything for you, darling. Always."