fluctuat nec mergitur.

dear santa,

all i want for christmas is a smile on my sister’s face so big it outshines the bruises.


Last night I fell asleep to the melody of tears. Sister never seems to be able to stop her sad lullaby song. Mommy and Daddy yelled a lot more than they normally did, but only to the faceless people on the other end of the phone. I miss the way the sun used to shine, so bright it hurt my eyes to see. Now there’s only darkness and clouds, rain and lightning.

Today Sister came home with blood in her pockets and blood in her hair. Mommy cried and Daddy said it was time to get drastic. No one would rip apart his girl again. Daddy yelled at the phantoms on the phone again, but they didn’t yell back, they laughed instead. Sister smiled and said it was fine and Mommy told me that Sister was the greatest superhero of them all.

I spent the whole weekend in a sea of crayons and markers and paper and color. I drew a picture of Sister, a picture for Sister. It was very happy, very bright and full of sunshine. I handed it to her on her way out the door, her way to school and sorrow, and she smiled at me, real big. Happiness rained from her cheeks and tears rained from her eyes. She gave me a hug and left, still smiling and still crying. She never came home that night.

Daddy called the police and a dozen faceless ghosts. Nobody would help him and Mommy woke me up to watch the sunrise. She said that Sister woke up extra early every morning just so she could watch the sky go from black to morning-song blue. It was what kept her alive, Mommy told me, the colors of rebirth. I decided that, when Sister got back, we’d go watch a dozen sunrises together.

Three sunrises later, Daddy began to cry. His face cracked open and his skin fell off, apart, and even Mommy couldn’t put it back together. I started watching sunsets, too, so that maybe maybe the sun would sleep faster so Sister could return faster. Mommy stopped watching sunrises and locked herself in her room, lights off and spirits off and sun off.

One month to the day that Sister disappeared she stumbled up the sidewalk. It was sunrise and I saw her first. She looked into the gold and purple and pink of the sky and started to cry. Daddy and Mommy shared in her diamond-dripping mood when they first saw her, happy and horrified.


dear santa,

all i want for christmas is a blanket of tolerance for the world to wear to wipe the blood of my sister’s face.