"I must get my soul back from you;
I am killing my flesh without it."
- Sylvia Plath
She's a wee, little thing when you first see her. Red, crumpled, and wet, barely even able to open her eyes, but she does it anyway.
Large, brown eyes stare - unfocused, into thin air, without reason. Yet, you could have sworn she was looking right at you. Her hands barely moving, yet she's reaching for you.
They say you're a big sister now.
Her tiny foot touches your forehead, and for the first time since you see her you smile.
Lucy, they call her. You don't know what it means, but you know that it is beautiful.
…
Your parents worship her, as do your aunts, and your uncles, and your cousins, and anyone who doesn't notice you as much as they could.
You want to hate her it, for replacing you, for taking the away, but one look into her eyes, and she's caught you on fire, lighting you up as you go.
There's nothing in you that could make you hate her, and you realize, you don't need anybody else but her.
You're a New Moon, always been quiet. Now you're sinking into the dark to help your sun to shine.
The next time you wake up, she'll shine her light upon you.
…
Your roles reverse the first time that she catches you cry.
An arm over your shoulder, sweet soothing words into your ear, and a tender hand, holding out for yours. This is not right, you think, while letting it happen all the same.
You're the older sister, you're the one supposed to be looking out for her, but it's all so wrong and you know it. You know it.
Lucy's always been so much stronger than you.
You still don't know what happened to the boys who teased you, but they are gone now.
It doesn't matter, you tell yourself. People who do bad things deserve to suffer for it.
…
After a while you find yourself following her like a shadow.
It's unconscious at first; you mother cares for you, and your father looks at you with a mixture of pride, and hidden concern, but it's your sister who you confide in, the only one who reaches out for you. She's the only one you need.
The other children call you creepy.
You take on observing her. It's the one thing you're good at: staying quiet, unnoticed, and at the same time, taking in everything that's going on around you.
Lucy's not like that. Lucy puts herself in the centre of a crowd, and charms them all with her perfection.
Why can't you be more like her?
…
You know she loves you too. It just doesn't always show.
…
She had warned you back then, and truth be told, you knew that something must've been off, too. Why else would you somehow - miraculously - become the interest of a boy?
"He's never loved me at all, did he?", you ask, and keep your voice low, just so you don't break into tears. You've long since outgrown crying. You would not find dignity in yourself if you gave in.
"Oh, Molls…", says Lucy. There's so much sympathy in her eyes - or is it pity? "Of course he didn't…There's nobody in the world who could ever love you as much as I do. Molly… you're just too special, and they're far too cruel for you. But I'm your sister, sweet, I love you"
Your heart had skipped a beat during her speech, but when she puts her hand on you, you almost feel safe again.
"You're so… naive, Molly, so idealistic… with such a good heart"
She pushes you closer and gently places a kiss on your forehead, even though you are still taller than her.
"Let me take care of it for you"
She smiles at you, and you believe her. You believe everything.
…
People who do bad things deserve to suffer for it.
…
Eventually, it all fell apart of course. You loved your sister, still do. And that's your big mistake.
You won't last long without her, that much you know.
…
"Come on, Molly, just forget about it. No need for a fuss"
In the end, it's the smallest thing that pulls the trigger. The most insignificant betrayal, but once it happens, you can't unhear it. Once it happens, it opens your eyes for everything else.
I hate you, you want to scream at her, but you know that you won't mean it, and you refuse to lie to her. You've never lied to her.
"I don't ever want to see you again", is what you say instead, and you turn your head too fast to see the tears clogging up your sisters throat.
It's not in your nature to forgive. Not even if you've shaped your whole life after her already.
…
One walks away. Both shatter.