Younger Sister Story: Tall

She walked down the hall to Lena’s room. The door was ajar. Lena was sitting on the bed, knees pulled to her chest, which was now a very long way up. Mira didn’t say a word. She just climbed onto the bed, sat down, and leaned her head against Lena’s shoulder.

Lena shrugged, a casual ripple of new, lanky shoulders. “Growth spurt. Doctor said I might hit 5’11”.” tall younger sister story

Too short. The words were a knife. Mira had worn that dress as a floor-length gown. Now it was a shirt on her baby sister. She walked down the hall to Lena’s room

“You know,” Mira whispered, “I used to put my chin on top of your head when we hugged.” Mira didn’t say a word

On the fourth night, Mira found a note on her pillow. It was written on a torn piece of notebook paper in Lena’s loopy, still-messy handwriting. Mira, I didn’t ask to be tall. You didn’t ask to stop growing. I’m sorry the world looks different from up here. But I miss when you used to walk beside me, not behind me. I don’t want to be your rival. I want to be your sister. Can we please just be sisters again? — Lena Mira read the note three times. Then she did something she hadn’t done since she was twelve. She cried. Not for the lost inches, but for the lost weeks. She had turned her sister into a monument of her own insecurity. Lena hadn’t stolen the height. The world had simply kept spinning.

Mira felt the earth tilt. She was 5’8” on a good day. In the months she’d been away, writing essays and learning to do her own taxes, Lena had become a giraffe. The family dinner that night was a minefield. Their mother kept saying, “Look how you two have changed!” while their father silently carved the roast, pretending not to notice Mira’s clenched jaw.

“Now you’d probably get a mouthful of my hair if you tried.”