And I Didn't Say Anything

She's coming home! She's coming home! I kept thinking all day. I'm so excited for my older sister to finally get home. For nine long months, she'd been gone, away at school. I remembered the day she got accepted.

"Mum?" she'd called from the kitchen. "Mum, I got a letter. You better come and see." And it was from a place called Hog Warts. I don't know why anyone would call a school that. I mean, what would you tell people? "Where do you go to school?" "Oh, I go to Hog Warts." No, that's just odd. Nevertheless, it was the name of the school.

"A witch! We have a genuine with in the family! How wonderful!" my mother exclaimed. That's when I walked in. I was just a little kid—only seven! I didn't understand when she was packing her things, and everyone was talking about her leaving. I thought she was leaving forever.

"Why are you leaving, Lily?" I finally asked her, tearfully.

"To go to school," she explained. "But don't worry, I'll be back next summer."

"Next summer? But that's so far away!"

"Well…I'll come home for Christmas, too," she added.

"Promise?" I asked.

"Promise."

But she didn't. She claimed she wanted to stay there and study, and that we didn't have the right materials. But she promised that next summer, we would go fishing, and play dolls, and dress-up, and swim, and take walks, and go to the zoo. So I didn't say anything, and instead opened presents without her, and played with my cousins on Christmas Eve without Lily, and counted down the days until summer vacation.

Finally the day came! I put on my favorite blue dress and my new shoes this morning. I cleaned up my room and got out my favorite video so we can watch it together. I ran around the house until Mommy made me go outside. That was okay with me—I would be the very first to get in the car to go get her this way! I played jump rope for a while, and then Mommy and Daddy came out and said it was time to go! We got in the car.

"Mommy?" I asked on the drive there.

"Yes, sweety?"

"Can Lily sit by me in the car?"

"Of course she can."

When we got to the station, Lily was waiting out front. She was talking happily with a redheaded girl. When she saw our car, she waved and pulled her trunk over. After Mommy loaded it into our car, she said, "Lily, you look so grown up! I think you should sit in the front seat now!" So even though she promised she'd sit next to me, Lily got into the front seat next to Daddy. But I was excited she was home, so I didn't say anything.

She chatted nonstop to Mommy and Daddy all the way home, telling them about the school she'd been at all year, and her new friends, who I didn't know. She made jokes I didn't get. At first, I was still just so happy she was back, but after a while, I started to fell a little left out. She had broken her promise to come home for Christmas, and Mommy had broken her promise that my sister would sit next to me, and no one spoke to me the whole way home! I felt really lonely, but I knew Mommy and Daddy missed her too, so I didn't say anything.

"Mom, Dad, it's such a wonderful place! I can't wait to go back next year!" she exclaimed.

"Hi, Lily," I said softly. But she and Mommy were laughing and she didn't hear me. I knew she was happy to see them, so I didn't say anything.

All summer, it was more of the same. Friends, family and neighbors all asked her how school was, and was she glad to be home, and said they'd missed her. But they didn't say anything to me, so I didn't say anything. And whenever I asked her to play with me, she was busy, doing homework, or catching up with "my muggle friends," as she called them. But since she didn't seem to have time for me, I didn't ask what that meant.

At the end of the summer, Mommy and Daddy drove her back to King's Cross.

"Don't you want to come and say goodbye?" Mommy asked me. I shook my head. When they got back, I asked her if Lily had mentioned my not coming.

"I…I don't think she said anything." So I didn't say anything either.

Many, many years later, I received an invitation to her wedding. I hadn't met the groom; probably someone from The Wart School, as I now called it. It said RSVP, but I didn't call them back to tell them I wasn't going to come.

And a couple of years after that, her son ended up on my doorstep, with a letter saying she was dead. And I didn't say anything.