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A flow of words and an occasional rhyme by Flynn-the-cat

Words by GreenTeaZombie

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Submitted on
January 14, 2008
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10.3 KB


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     Sister had gotten everything she wanted. Everyone loved her. Everyone wished to please her. She was the more beautiful one. She was the eldest. Mother and Father favored her over me. The best always went to her and I always got second best, if anything. They all hung on her every word and she got all the attention. I was left to my own design. No one to say I could or couldn’t. No one to care if I failed or succeeded. Until one day in the most beautiful spring ever.

     He came from a kingdom over. He was beautiful, sweet, gentle, and intelligent. Sister expected him to trip over himself to please her, but he paid her no heed. Instead, he wooed me. Me, the one nobody cared about. Me, the one nobody worshipped. Me, the forgotten little sister.

     Sister was only annoyed at first. But as weeks became months, and he still followed me, she grew angrier. She couldn’t stand it. She didn’t understand how he could want me and not her. It infuriated her, ate at her, and made her bitter.

     Then, one day, he asked me to marry him. I was thrilled. I was happy. Mother and Father were excited. Everyone began to plan my wedding.

     And so, suddenly, Sister was alone.

     I knew how it felt. I felt bad for her, I was used to it. She wasn’t. So, I asked her to go for a walk by the lake with me. I asked her to be my maid-of-honor. She smiled and agreed. She seemed to like the thought. Someone was paying attention to her again.

     We talked of the wedding as we walked on the shore. We walked out onto the dock and watched the ducks swim around.

     I turned to ask her something.

     She shoved me into the lake. I reached out but it wouldn’t save me. I could not swim. And in my heavy gowns, I sank to the bottom. There I lay, lungs full of air I couldn’t exchange for more.

     Sister stood at the edge of the dock. She looked down at me and smiled. She turned and left. I was left alone to slowly drown.

     Tears wanted to flow down my cheeks. Screams wanted to burst from my chest.

     I stared up in disbelief. A fish came to investigate. I looked at him as my eyes began to cloud with death.

     I opened my mouth and asked him, “Why?” as water rushed into my lungs, “Why couldn’t she let me have the attention for just once? Why Sister? Why?”

     He stared at me. Mouth opening and closing as though he wanted to answer, but couldn’t think of anything to say. Then he swam off leaving me.

     They searched for me. For a few months, they searched. They never found me.

     A year passed. They never could figure out what happened. I silently watched people come and go.

     Some children were playing on the dock one day that next summer. They were jumping into the water and swimming. One dived in and swam deep. He found me, much to his shock and horror. Poor child. He ran and got some adults. A few came down and saw me. They sent for Mother and Father.

     Everyone was amazed that I was preserved. I was brought up to the dock and set on a table. I saw Mother, Father, Sister, and my love to my right. There were many others to my left.

     Mother and Father wept in anguish. Sister was pale, but pretended to cry. My love came to hold my hand.

     As he took my hand, he noticed something clutched tightly in my fingers. He pried them open.

     It was a necklace. Sister’s necklace she had gotten from Mother and Father for her birthday a couple weeks before she had pushed me. I had grabbed and broke it as I fell into the water. She never knew.

     Everyone looked at her in horror. She was paler than me as I lay in death.

     Father asked her to explain. She just stared at me. My expression of sadness had turned to a slight smile, even though I was dead. She was horrified.

     It was my turn to ask what I had waited to ask for so long. My body released my ghost. Sister grew paler. No one but her saw me. They all heard what I had to say though.

    “Why? Why couldn’t you let me have the attention for just once? Why Sister? Why?”

     Everyone was shocked. She was on the verge of a breakdown.

     I sighed, “I love you still. And I forgive you. You are, after all, my sister.”

     She fell to her knees, sickened by herself.

     My ghost returned to my body. My love leaned over, whispered “I love you,” and softly kissed my lips.

     The gods were watching that day and took mercy. Upon his kiss, they thrust life back into me.

     My body warmed and gained colour. My blood flowed past a beating heart. I blinked. I suddenly sat bolt up and gasped for fresh air.

     Sister snapped. She lost it. She melted to the ground in tears and sobs.

     Everyone was joyed at my revival, most especially Mother, Father, and my beloved.

     Sister was never the same. She locked herself in her rooms and never came out. She never spoke to anyone. Her meals had to be taken to her. Mother and Father let her be. They could not punish her more than she was already punishing herself. At my request, they all forgave her, but only formally.

     It really was not her fault. She had been so used to all the attention that she had no idea how to react when she lost it, even for a little while.

     My love and I married. When Mother and Father stepped down, we became King and Queen.

     Sister remained in her rooms. She would sit in her little garden and stare at the fountain for hours.

     I would visit her. I talked to her. She seemed to take comfort in it.

     No one could get her to respond to them except me. She seemed to smile when I visited. She would nod sometimes. Sometimes she would make something to give me on my visits. I kept it all in the top drawer of my wardrobe.

     When I first learned I was pregnant, I told her first.  She actually looked me in the eye and smiled big. She hugged me before I left. She made lots of things for the baby. When I started my labor pains, I had someone go tell her. She actually left her rooms and came to be by my side. It was a girl, a beautiful, strong, healthy girl. I named it after Sister. As I lay recovering, she held the baby. I heard her speak for the first time in years. “Be good,” she whispered. “Do good.”

    Sister was by my side at the next two birthings. She rarely spoke, but each time I had a child, she whispered those words to the children.

     No one could understand why I always went to see her or why I let her into my life after what she did. At first, I tried to explain, but as the years passed, I gave up.

     I told her this one day, a few years after my third and last child was born. She looked up at me. Her eyes looked deep into mine. “Why?” she asked.

     I smiled, “You need to know that you are still loved and wanted. Just like that day long ago, when I asked you to be my maid-of-honor. I know what it is like to fell unwanted and unloved. I know what it is like when no one seems to care. No one should ever have to feel and know these things.”

     “Oh…..” she said softly and looked down again.

     “Besides,” I said, and she looked up again. “You are my sister.” And I smiled, got up, hugged her, and left.

     After that day, she started to come out of her rooms again and talked more.

     That was years ago. Now I sit on the edge of her bed, as she lies dying. I hold her hand tight so she knows I am there.

     Her eyes open. She looks at me and smiles, “I am sorry.”

     “I know. I forgave you ages ago.”

     She smiles more, her breathing shallower and pulse weakening.

     “I love you, Sister,” I whisper to her.

     “I love you too, my dear little sister.” And with that, she gives a soft sigh, closes her eyes, and passes away.

     I am alone.

     Outside her rooms, I hear my husband and others of the court pacing the hall. I rise, kiss her forehead, and leave her rooms. I never go into them again.

     My husband welcomes me into his arms and softly kisses me. He knows my pain. He was the only one besides myself who truly forgave Sister. He understood why. He grew up alone like me. His brother always got the attention and love. That is why he left his kingdom. That is why he fell in love with me.
This is a prize for `Anathematixs for coming in first place in *HiddenYume-stock's Awaken the Goddess contest several months ago.

The picture is one from her gallery. I wanted to know why the girl was on the bottom looking up at the fish. Why was she down there...what had happened. So that's how this story came out of it. It is partially inspired by a northern European fairy-tale story {Norwegian or Danish, or such...can't remember exactly}. The story basically goes:

"The was a king and queen with two lovely daughers. The eldest was loved the most. She got all the gifts and all the boys attention. One day, a lovely prince from a nearby kingdom came to their castle to live. He fell in love with the younger sister. They planned their wedding to all's joy. The eldest grew jealous. So, one day, before the wedding, she invited her sister for a walk along the cold deep river that flowed near the castle. When they were far enough from the castle, the eldest shoved her into the river. The youngest drowned. The elder returned to the castle, told all that her sister had been goofing off while they were on their walk and slipped and fell into the river and that she couldn't save her. All were struck with grief. The prince decided to marry the eldest after a couple months and so their plans went ahead and they married. Meanwhile, a bard happened upon the bones and remains of the princess very far up the river a couple years later. He turned them into a harp-like instrument, using her jawbone as the main body of the instrument, fingerbones as tuners, and hair as the strings. When he played it, he heard the sister's voice start singing, telling her tragic story. So the bard made his mission to find and bring the elder sister to justice. He slowly made his way across the countryside, playing the harp to anyone who would listen. It was soon the talk of the kingdom. The king and his court wished to hear this amazing harp and so sent for the bard. The first night, the bard rested and told stories. The second night, he pulled out the harp. He told the story of how he had found the remains and made the harp. He then proceeded to play it, letting the younger's story fill the room. The eldest sister grew pale as death. When the song was done, the court was amazed and praised the bard. The king vowed to put to death whoever it was that killed the girl, no matter who she was. The eldest became even paler upon these words. Her husband {the younger sister's husband to be} asked her what was wrong, she was pale, cold, and sweating. The court was staring at her now in wonder. What had come over the princess? The bard began to suspect it was her who did it. He began to play the harp again. This time, a new song began to sing from the harp. This time the sister went into detail of the betrayal her sister had done, and all for a man...and how that man was now her sister's husband. Suddenly, the princess could take it no longer and sprang up. She dashed over to the bard, grabbed the harp and smashed it too pieces on the ground. But it still sang. The sister stomped on the pieces. The horror set in over the court, as the realized what had happened to the younger princess years before. The prince was sick with disgust at the thought of having married and lay with his beloved's murderer. The harp finally ended its song. The elder was shaking, desheveled. She realized what she had done; she had give herself away. She looked around the court at the looks of horror and disgust. Her gazed settled on that of her parents and then her husband. The bard suddenly grabbed her, dragged her outside to the castle walls and threw her into the cold roaring river that she had thrown her sister too years before. Her body smashed against the rocks and disappeared into the waters below. The bard left, never to be seen or heard from again. The king and queen retired from the throne not long after that. The prince took up the thrown and eventually found himself a new wife and had children with her. They lived long lives and he was a great king. The End"

Yeah, kinda gruesome....I like my version better. So much happier and far less gruesome....

Note: The picture that was used as inspiration is hers. It remains hers and hers alone! That means that the copyright belongs to her!!! If you like this story or even just the picture, please, go view the original picture here [link] and :+fav: it and comment! Check out the rest of the gallery too! Her artwork is amazing! While the picture is hers, the story is mine and is therefore copyrighted to me and me alone!!!!!
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SkeletorsPain Featured By Owner Sep 17, 2012  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
loved the story
you should listen to the song "the cruel sister" itīs a nice version to the legend^^
GreenTeaZombie Featured By Owner May 28, 2012  Hobbyist Artist
This is one of the most loved stories I have come across in all my years. If this was a storybook, it would be on my top shelf. I cried three times, and I think this story hits close to home because I, too, am a little sister, sometimes forgotten. Beautful story, it is.
Poetic-Dragon Featured By Owner May 29, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
:blush: oh! goodness! Thank you!!! I am really happy it touched you so much! If I ever take off as a writer, I will have to turn this into a little book then, won't I! :D
GreenTeaZombie Featured By Owner Aug 7, 2012  Hobbyist Artist
Y ou totally should, it's amazing~
greeneyes110 Featured By Owner Jan 30, 2010
i love this 1 i even
love the picture this is
my favorite 1!!!:)
Mistaphire Featured By Owner Mar 24, 2009  Hobbyist Writer
Such a beautiful story and with a deep meaning too. "To forgive is divine," as they say. Someone who is able to forgive something like that is a rare find.
Poetic-Dragon Featured By Owner Mar 26, 2009  Hobbyist General Artist
^_^ Thank you!
Yeah, I figured she would have to forgive her sister, because it really wasn't entirely her sister's fault; it's just how she was raised, to get all she wanted and she wasn't used to not getting her way. Plus, it makes for a great moral to a story; you can forgive people even for the worst offenses, even if they don't deserve it. In the end, the forgiveness isn't for them but for yourself, so you don't get eaten up by anger and resentment and ugliness; it's healthier for you. I know, I've gone thru that. I forgave the person for the benefit of my heart, mind, and soul, not for them to sleep easier at night, so to speak; it was eating at me and making me an angry person, which is not who I am. So I wove the lesson I learned into my story, hoping maybe one or two people will get the hint.
Mistaphire Featured By Owner Mar 28, 2009  Hobbyist Writer
Forgiving can be difficult though, depending on the situation. I still have a difficult time with it every now and then, so it's sort of an ongoing process. But someone who is willing shows true merit. Life lessons can make for good storytelling if done right.
I loved it, it was so deep.
Poetic-Dragon Featured By Owner May 16, 2008  Hobbyist General Artist
:hug: thank you! I wanted something with a deep meaning to it, not just sounded good.
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