an ire for bards and other things.

big sister II.

i had never really been a fan of hers
growing up, my eldest
sister.
but
now i see
just how much she
truly did for me.

i see it, so clearly,
all those years ago,
her tucking me into bed
and reading me my favorite story
while our parents were fighting below her makeshift shelter.

i recall having stuck my ear up to door,
trying to make sense of the curses being exchanged between them.

"em, it's way past your bedtime." she had whispered into the ear that was not consumed by vulgarity.

"shh" i replied, too engrossed with my own childish endeavors to see her true intentions.

"emma, bed. now." she said, the slightest hint of a tremor weaved into her words.

i recall being irritated after she had
taken me by the hand and led me to my room.

"why're you doing this?" i had inquired, clearly referring to the act of her putting me to bed.

she had looked at me, and for the first time, i knew something was terribly wrong.
you see, she couldn't have been more than thirteen at the time. . .
and yet,
i had seen her eyes age twenty years as her tawny gaze met my green.

"i'm doing this because i need to know that you're being cared for by at least one person in this house."

i wasn't quite sure what she meant by that at the time,
but, for some reason, i knew better than to say something
back.
instead, i allowed her to swaddle me in the sheets;
just like my mother and father had done,
when they had the time.

- thank you for raising me when no one else could, Bree.