The smurf

My sister used to cry, but now she doesn’t have the time. 

She keeps a princess schedule. From sunset to noon, she slumbers, with an interval halfway, when she goes for a stroll through the chambers. 

She is bathed by her most loyal subject and gently patted with lavender oil.

Her breakfast is poached eggs, fresh-baked bread, fruit glistening on summits of pancakes. I’m not allowed to touch them until she finishes ignoring them. 

Her carriage awaits whenever she agrees to leave the castle. She is escorted to the regular healers or to pick up new remedies. 

Dinner is whatever my sister wants, though she rarely wants it. Instead, she asks for the finest wine, which doesn’t suit a princess, but she gets it anyway.

As the evening sets, I, the dedicated jester, hold her hand and tell her stories. Sometimes, we watch stories of other princesses, but mostly, she looks outside at nothing. 

As for me, I don’t need much. I do well in school and eat all my veggies. I’ll be off to college in six short years, and I won’t be back, like Elly, after four months, to lie motionless in my old bed, tears flowing day and night.

With all the good grades in the world, I can’t make any sense of why this is happening, but I sometimes want to cry, too. She worked so hard to get into medical school and always showed ‘such promise,’ people said.

Mom and Dad know what to do, just like they did three years ago when Elly was sixteen and very sad for no reason.  

Elly sees a therapist, a psychiatrist, and a nutritionist. She takes three types of pills: some that wake her up, some that make her sleep, and some that should make her happy but mostly make her stare outside the window. 

Mornings are the hardest; they belong to Mom alone. She gives Elly a thousand reasons to get up, lifts her as needed, negotiates every bite.

Dad makes sure she’s always on time for the three ‘ists’ and their prescriptions. 

We all sit for dinner, but no one talks about their day except me. I tell them about the structures of leaves and empires falling and all the fascinating things from my day. I can’t wait for college – being away from here and alone with all this stuff.

Last night, I took Elly to the couch and asked her to tell me a secret because I wanted to do the same. She told me:

‘When I wake up at night, there’s a smurf on my nightstand. He glows in the dark. He takes a bow to salute me and leads me on a walk.’

Who wouldn't want to see a smurf?

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