My Sister is an Angel ( ii )

I don’t have a sister. Her name is Xiao-Xiu. She was born two years after me. If it weren’t for her, mommy wouldn’t have scolded me. If it weren’t for her, mummy wouldn’t have slapped me. If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t have ended up standing outside the door on a cold and scary night, crying, wishing that all of this didn’t happened, if it weren’t for her.

“How could you push your baby sister like that! How could you hurt her? You should know better, you’re her elder sister!” Tears were scattering from her eyes like one of the water sprinklers I’ve seen in the park.

“I…. I had no choice, they…. They were laughing at her…. Laughing at me! I don’t want her! I don’t want her as my sister! I wish she would just….” Mummy’s right hand flung across the air and landed on my right cheek, my words came to a halt. My left cheek was numb; tears were boiling in my eyes. I restrained my eyelids from any movement, fearing that signs of weakness might dribble down my swelling cheeks and evaporate.

“She hates me….” That was the thought that gone through my mind at that time. Now I knew why she did that. She wanted to prevent me from saying something that I would regret of for the rest of my living days.

There she was again, my sister, standing alone at a corner in the canteen. The other kids were lining up to buy food. But she, she just stood there and stare at the food, as always. I pretended not to see her and joined the queue. Many of the other kids were staring at her, and a few of them were staring at me. Why, why does it made me feel so sheepish and suffocating inside? I stole a glance at her, she was still staring at the food, with the one ringgit note creased up in her palm.

That silly girl, mummy had taught her many times how to buy food at the school canteen, but she still ends up standing there, helpless. A boy who was standing in front of me saw her. He detached himself from the queue and walk right up to her. He bends down, put his hands over his knees, and in a benevolent tone asked her what she wanted to buy. She hauled her head down and shrunk her hands behind her back, as if to stow away the creased note. He smiled and said something to her. This time it made her looked up and smiled. The boy then took her by the hand and lead her to the back of the line.

Afterwards, I saw her sitting together with him. He was looking over her as she happily stuffed her mouth full with the fried bee-hun he bought for her. At that moment, my innocence was washed away, like a sandcastle at eventide.

She was always trouble for me. During class, I would always get called to the staff room. She doesn’t know how to take care of herself, she pees or poops in her pants sometimes, and she pours water all over her school dress the others. Any other way, I’m always the one who gets called over to clean up the mess.

Cleaning up after her was one of the things I dreaded most in school, but I have to do it almost everyday. As I scrubbed her pee stained panties, tears can’t help but scratched my cheeks. Every night, I would stand at the door of the dimly lid bathroom, staring at mummy’s shivering gray silhouette. She always has her back facing me, but I know that she was always crying, as I can hear her muted snivels.