Sister's Bond
The first time Drew met her sister, she was two. She didn't remember much. Just a pat on the head and "aren't you a gem?". Drew remembered warmth. Drew remembered beauty. Then Drew remembered a little squirmy bundle that the most gorgeous woman in the world gave to her.
"Take care of this one," the beautiful woman told her. "She's your sister."
Drew looked at the gorgeous woman claiming to be her mother. She looked at the squirmy little bundle. She looked at the squished potato face. She took in the tiny punchy fists. There was no competition between the two. For the first time in her life, Drew fell in love.
Drew called her sister Aimi. Their father gave her a different name. But Aimi was Drew's special name for her.
Drew was four when Aimi started talking. Their parents had been concerned because Aimi had been silent all throughout all prior toddlerhood. Their father blamed it on their stepmother speaking Spanish. (Drew guessed it wouldn't be too long before their latest Stepmother left. He never held on to one woman for long. After all, who could compare to their actual mother?) Drew had never cared. She had always known what her sister wanted. (Drew was good at reading faces.) She always got people to do it for her sister. (Drew was good at getting people to listen to her.) Her father was not so pleased every time he found out.
Even if she wouldn't talk, Aimi was very good at drawing. She picked up crayons far sooner than she picked up anything else. Her drawings were massive amounts of brilliant colors put on a mismatched display, but they were beautiful mismatched colors. Whenever Aimi drew, her eyes furrowed together in concentration. The crayon shook a little. Then she would draw.
Aimi's first word was 'flower' followed closely by 'Drew'. Drew didn't know if it was the word 'drew' or her name, but Drew took it, nonetheless. As far as anyone was concerned, her name was the first name out of her sister's mouth.
When Drew turned six, Aimi learned about paint. Drew talked their nanny into buying them finger paint and letting them paint the wall. Aimi was so happy. Drew had fun too. It was the last summer before Drew was going to go to first grade.
When Drew turned eight, she was diagnosed with dyslexia. Her father just rubbed the top of his nose and told her that this diagnosis just meant she needed to study harder. He bought her books that claimed to be in a dyslexic font. It helped. A bit. Her sister survived first grade. Aimi had struggled a lot more than Drew. The only class she'd enjoyed was art class. Drew wasn't surprised. Her sister was already an incredible artist. Even at six, her sister's flowers were becoming increasingly realistic.
When Drew turned ten, her father bought Drew her first makeup kit. He was less pleased to find the mess that both Drew and Aimi had caused by trying it out on each other. Drew didn't care. She'd had fun.
Drew was twelve when the satyr's found her. She had snuck out with Aimi to go shopping for pastels. Aimi had difficulty focusing in and on school. As such, her grades weren't good enough for the new pastels that Aimi had gotten her eyes on. Drew did not have that issue. She'd gotten a large allowance. As such, she'd offered to sneak out with her and buy it for her. Aimi's smile was worth it. Drew didn't need those new boots anyway.
The Satyr introduced himself as Fern. He explained that the Greek gods were real. He explained that there were monsters. He explained that there was a safe place for them. He explained it in a way that their father said yes. Drew still bought Aimi her paints.
That was the first summer they stayed at the summer camp. Their cabin was too tiny (though everyone complained they were missing people). There was also a lot of nervous talk about a tree and a war. Drew hadn't paid much attention. For the first time, her sister had a place where she fit in. That was worth spending every day in an orange tee-shirt and climbing walls made of lava. Aimi had found a new home. They were finally safe. Perhaps Drew could finally relax.