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PoetryIn-e-Motion

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Poems and short stories ©   by Arno and Anna unless differently stated (Disclaimer).

I remember when my sister Nina was born. In a few weeks I would be three years old. I have no recollection whatsoever about my mother's pregnancy, only that particular morning, when she rushed out of the kitchen and said the water broke. I had no idea what it meant, I only knew it meant a great hurry and dropping me off upstairs by my nanny.

Later on my father came to pick me up, and the first time I visited the hospital was full excitement to me. I had never gone to such a place, and things such as washing our hands and noticing the trashbin lid could be opened by stepping on a pedal were wholly new to me.

We passed a girl with her father in the hallway. There was something peculiar about that moment, something I still vividly remember. She was four or five years old, with long, blond, curly hair, and wearing a pretty, light-colored dress with lace. She was eating candy pastils from a green, Pluto-candy box.

The way she looked at me... down, like to an inferior. I bet she felt SHE was the princess, the one and only. Nose up she passed me. Still today I wonder what she was like, what she thought of herself then, and how she turned out to be today.

Dad brought me to the nursery, the real "baby-dormitory". Between at least twenty yelling or sleeping babies he pointed out who my sister was. Somehow I accepted it at once, that moment. I never even considered it strange that a sister just pops up like that. No baby-bringing birds for me, just one, big, magical, welcoming building. And I had no clue that at that very same moment, someone else upstairs could be dying.