Sisters

There are two doors between us and those loud angry voices. They are a flimsy promise of protection, in a world that has very little shelter. I could have sworn the room was warm just before, but I’m cold. We huddle together to wait out the storm. I’m scared, but so are you, so I pretend I’m not. It’s all quiet for a second and we hold our breath, before they start again, and we know it’s not over. A door slams and we jump in unison. It’s an eternity in a heartbeat as the quiet settles, but we’re not moving. Not until we’re sure. I think we were playing before, but I don’t really remember. I don’t feel like playing any longer. I feel like crying. And I know you do to. There are tears waiting to fall in the corners of those brown eyes I know so well. I am only 4 years older than your 5, but I know in my heart that if I do not look out for you, nobody else will. We hug each other tight, and say nothing because we have yet to learn the words we need. I wish you could read my thoughts so you would know: I love you more than anyone, and the fire in my heart that can’t seem to light for my own sake lights for yours, and if the voices ever come for you, you can be sure they’ll have to get through me first.