Sister and Brother

Nineteen Years Ago

Simon Tam looked at the little curled up pink ball that was his sister in the hospital basket. He couldn't understand why his parents were so happy to see it. He didn't feel right calling his new sister a girl; the little ball couldn't be a human life. It was so wrinkly and pink and disgusting. Simon couldn't believe that Mom and Dad were nearly fainting with joy when they got to hold the little child for the first time.

“River Annabelle,” his mother said with finality to the doctor asking for the lump's name.

“River Annabelle Tam,” his father echoes. “A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” He leans down and gives a kiss to River on his forehead. Mom surrenders the baby to her husband, who bursts with pride as he holds his daughter in his arms for the first time.

Simon rocks back and forth on his feet. He doesn't like the silence in the room. His mother is resting in a hospital bed and his father is sitting in a chair by her side, where he's been for the past fifteen hours. Simon wasn't allowed to stay in the room; he spent the time running around and sleeping in the hospital's daycare center. Simon had gotten bored very quickly while in there, and he begged the attendant to let him out. The attendant was very robotic; he barely even paid attention to Simon's constant pleading. He insisted that he wanted to see his baby sister arrive.

Now that he saw her, he couldn't believe he'd been so anxious to see this awful excuse of a baby sister.

“Simon, do you want to hold her?” Dad asked tentatively. He could see it in Simon's eyes that he was afraid.

“No,” Simon said shakily and quickly. He backed away slowly from his parents.

“It's okay, sweetie,” his mom reassured. “River isn't going to hurt you. She's just a baby, after all.”

“Yeah,” Simon nods. “She's just a baby, I guess.” He makes his way slowly over to his parents, only holding his sister so that he could make them happy and see their smiles. His father handed River back to his mother carefull