Ell

I remember the day that Desha was born. It's blurry and unclear, the hours running together like a pool of intertwining watercolors on a canvas. I was nine, the same age Desha is now. I was secretly thrilled at the idea of having a little brother or sister, even though I'd been told how it would change things for me, should the baby be a boy. I didn't care. I was eager to love everyone and everything, including him, should he have been a him.
  I remember my step-mother calling me in to her bedside after the long wait. Her pillows were damp, and the maidservant couldn't hide the blood on the sheets. But my worries melted away when I saw the look on Medella's face.

  "Look Ell. Your new baby sister." She beemed widely, the smile making her face more lovely than I'd ever seen it. "Isn't she beautiful?"
I nodded. Desha's round eyes glowed soft and deep and her skin was pearly and pink. But it was only a few minutes before she began to scream.

  "Give her what she wants, woman, before we're all driven deaf." He said from the corner. Medella looked up, gentle fear twisting in her eyes. His eyes glowed too, dark and cold.

  "Won't you come look at her?" The plea was a whisper, but there was a challenge hidden in it somewhere. I drew back into the shadows of the doorway, sensing the tension in the room. Medella's voice softened. "There's no danger this time. Please, she's your daughter. Won't you come see how beautiful she is?" My step-mother held little Desha out towards him, like luring a dog with a lamb. He approached slowly, taking the child in his arms. It is the first memory I have of his smile. And from that moment, I was forgotten.