Brother and Sisters

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This was not something that brothers and sisters were supposed to do. He chastised himself for not stopping her. There is no bond as intimate as the link between two siblings. No parent, no husband or wife, and no friend can know a child as well as their brother or sister. They had neither parents nor partners. Friends were unknown; invading countries never just wanted to talk peacefully. In truth, their sibling bond was even closer than normal. When she looked into his eyes, he knew she understood the loneliness and desperation behind them. She knew the cold. She knew the hardships. He never had to say the things that he didn't have the words to describe. All she would have to do is look at him with her eyes full of compassion. When she took his hand in hers, she was saying, I'm here, I'm here. They had long since transcended words.

"I love you, big brother." Her pale lips trembled around the words. She blushed. He stood there dumbly. What was he supposed to say?

"Little sister," he started. She looked up at him. He realized for the first time how much taller he was than her. But she was still growing. Ukraine was tall, too. Ukraine… He clutched his scarf. "I love you." He meant it. He loved her with his whole heart. He couldn't not love her. She was jealous and strong-willed, but she was also shy and sincere. Young as she was, she was already lovely. Her straw-blonde hair fell to her shoulders now; a simple band kept the bangs out of her watery blue eyes. She was slender and her body had yet to fully develop, but curves were budding in the appropriate places. Someday, he thought, she'd easily be beautiful. It would be his duty as a brother to keep pesky countries from conquering her. Sword and shield, horse and arrow, he'd lay down his life to protect her if it came to that. Winter be damned, he'd be there for her if she needed him. And it was all for his love of her, his little sister. But— God save me!— not like this! He looked into her eyes. He wanted her to understand: This complete, unfaltering love was for her. Still, there were things brothers and sisters should not do, no matter how great the love. Not that love.

She seized his shoulders and pressed him against the wall. So caught off guard, he didn't turn his head in time. He tightened his grip on his scarf with one hand and used the other to push her away. What was she doing? Her compassionate eyes were wild, and he didn't understand what she was trying to say. Or he didn't want to. He didn't want to understand the way she gazed at him, her arms reaching to wrap around him, her lips slightly puckered. It was an inappropriate look for her. She clung to him. Her breath was on his neck; her fingers were in his hair. He did nothing to stop her.

Three siblings stood in the middle of a forest. A big sister, a brother, and a little sister. They had no parents or guardians. Other children came to pick on them and bully them. It was always cold. The snow was always deep. There was little food and living was hard. The brother endured his harsh lifestyle quietly. When he finally became overwhelmed, he shed no tears. He turned to his big sister who, like the tender mother they never had, comforted him. She was silly, but her heart was large. Then the little sister came, and she gave him words of encouragement. She reminded him of how strong he was. Standing in the snow, they took each other's hands in an unspoken vow that these bonds would never be broken. Two sisters and one brother— if no one else would, they would love each other to the end, for they were all they had. No money, no formidable militaries, no treasure except this quiet place in the snowy woods they dwelled in relative safety. Three of them. Always three. The memory faded to a white blur in his mind.

He noticed how resentfully she eyed the scarf, and real anger swelled in him. She nearly choked him trying to tear it off, but he wouldn't let it go. Why couldn't it be the three of them? Life was difficult in the white. Somewhere along the way, they had let go. The thought was enough to bring tears to the corners of his eyes. Why didn't he hold on harder? Why was he weak when he needed to be strong? His heart was breaking. Any moment now, he thought, it would just fall right out of his chest and he'd lose it forever.

"You said it, brother! You said you love me. You love me. You love me. You love me." With each repetition, she pounded her fist against the wall next to his head. She dropped her voice, and he had to strain to hear what she said next. "If you love me, let's get married." The look in her eyes said she was entirely serious, albeit in a slightly hysteric state. He couldn't take it anymore. He shoved her away without holding back. Free now, he loosened his scarf and panted. She stared at him with her arms limp at her sides.

"No." She flinched as if he just cut her.

"Marry me." She came at him again with arms open, but he stopped her this time.

"No."

"Marry me."

"No." With every 'no', his voice grew more resolute. "You're my sister."

"She was our sister. She left us. I'm never going to leave your side, brother. So why shouldn't we get married? If you love me, and I love you, doesn't it make sense? It makes sense, big brother!"

"No. No matter how much I love you, a brother and sister can never become man and wife. Someday you'll understand. For now, listen to big brother." He collected himself. If she threw a tantrum, his duty was to remain calm. It was not a pretty sight. She screamed and scratched her face. She flung her arms. Her dress ripped. Tears gushed from her eyes as snot dripped from her nose. The band holding her hair back slipped off; her hair twisted and stuck to her face. The whole time she cried out until she fell to her knees and begged him, "Marry me! Marry me!" He became increasingly frightened by her behavior. Slowly, he backed away until he felt the door, but it occurred to him he couldn't leave her. He couldn't do anything to help her, either. Women were hysterical creatures, he heard. Craziness would run itself out. When it did, she'd understand. She'd look into his eyes and know the love he had for her was still there. This proved it: he would stay to make sure she didn't hurt herself. Afterwards, he'd make them tea and everything would be fine. In a few decades she would look back on this and blush. Maybe by then it'd be the three of them again. It was a happy thought.

She finally quieted. Her body lay limp on the floor, but her shoulders heaved and he could hear her sobs. He went to her and dried her eyes with his scarf.