photograph by Grace Essalih, grade 10

A six-year old sister, seven-year old brother, and a nine-year old brother – this dynamic looked all too familiar. Perhaps it reminded me of my family: an eighteen-year-old sister, a nineteen-year-old brother, and a twenty one-year-old brother. 

After the kids have been fed, I let them watch a movie to wind down before bedtime. The playroom smells clean and warm as the freshly showered siblings fill into their designated spots on the couch. Dani, the youngest, has valiantly earned the corner spot. “Earned” here means she cried to her mother for it. Dani rolls herself into a tortilla with her blanket and wiggles herself back to the corner. Zach, the oldest, is holding his iPad, which he recently got for his birthday, while the movie plays. He acts uninterested, although you can see his eyes looking beyond the tiny screen and onto the big one. 

Within about ten minutes of the movie starting, an animated monster appears on the screen: huge eyes and a giant orange body with disproportional antennas bursting out of its head. It doesn’t take long for Pierce, the middle child, to comment on it. “Dani, I didn’t know you were in this movie!” 

Zach breaks out into laughter – adding more to the joke. Dani, confused, laughs along with them. 

“I don’t think she gets it,” Pierce says. 

“What does it mean?” Dani asks innocently. 

“Nothing,” Pierce responds. Dani doesn’t ask again. 

“It means you look and act like a monster.” The minute Zach blurted this answer out, I knew what was about to happen, and I truly feared it. 

Dani breaks out in tears. I mean, fully fell to the ground crying and ran away. 

“Really, boys, really?” I say, annoyed. The boys shrug and continue the movie without their sister. I leave to find her; I know and feel her pain all too well. 

I quickly spot her lying in a majestic pile of stuffed animals, still weeping. 

“I want to be alone!” Dani mumbles. 

“I know you do – but I am not going to leave you right now.” Dani sighs and looks up at me. I took this as an acceptance to stay.

In her room, I try talking to Dani, but it is a little chaotic considering she will not stop crying. I pull out her Barbies, her toy cars, I even offer to play dress-up. Nothing would cheer her up, but I could understand that. I remember a similar interaction with my family from about two years ago. 

Today, I can’t quite remember what I did, but it ended with my oldest brother, Andrew, calling me childish – very undeservingly. I was sixteen years old, yet that didn’t prevent me from being so hurt by this single insult. I dramatically exited after yelling back something that I am not so proud of. It did not take long for my mother to come after me. 

“Please do not come in. I am really not in the mood to talk,” I said rudely and irrationally. My mother came in anyways. She sat down next to me on my bed.

“Molly, I’m sorry he was mean, but you weren’t exactly nice to him either.”

“Yeah, but only because he was mean first.”

“Well, you didn’t really give him any motivation to feel remorse. I know why you’re sad – and I get it, but I think you’ll  both feel better if you forgive each other.” 

“Ugh. Okay,” I conceded. “Where is he?” Though I was sixteen, the guidance and reassurance I felt from my mother really helped me. I was mad, but forgiving him did not take much convincing. 

To my surprise, within five minutes of leaving the playroom, both Zach and Pierce were knocking at Dani’s door. “Dani, can we come in?”

I have no idea what went on in that playroom while we were gone, but I can only imagine their conscience began to flood their thoughts. 

“Go away!!!” she says angrily and with zero hesitation.

“We just want to say we are sorry.” Zach sounds sad – nearly disappointed in himself. 

“Come on, Dani. I think we should let them in,” I say, hearing her brother’s sorrowful tone. 

“Fine,” she says, with an award-winning pouty face and tough crossed arms. The boys walk in and sit down on her bed very delicately. Pierce lets out a big sigh. 

“We’re sorry,” Zach says, obviously leading this plan for forgiveness. Dani slowly lifts her head after refusing to make eye contact with them. 

“Yeah – we didn’t mean it,” Pierce adds, with his head low. Dani’s tears slowly stop rolling. 

“Promise?” Dani asks. 

“We promise,” the boys say in unison. 

“Okay. Thank you,” Dani whispers. As she wipes her final tear away, she sits up, and the three walk out together. 

As we re-enter the playroom, it is like nothing happened. The lights are off, the only source of light coming from the TV. Dani resumes her corner seat and Zach whips out the iPad, which to him is cool to hold, even if he isn’t using it. Pierce takes control of the remote and authoritatively decides they should watch something else. He selects the Parent Trap, Dani’s most favorite movie; when he sees her smile, he presses play. 

Seemingly unaware of her brothers’ guilt and deep seated love for her, Dani claps her hands in excitement and asks me to come sit next to her. 

Watching these three interact was what made me want to come back each time to babysit. There was always something about them that I couldn’t quite place my finger on. This day in particular showed me what it was: they reminded me of my childhood.  

My whole life I’ve felt like an outsider to my two older brothers because I am the youngest and the only girl. I never felt truly loved by them because all I noticed was how much they loved each other. As silly as it sounds, I felt like they were best friends, and I was always just the meddling, unlikeable little sister. I’ve never realized how much they care about me: not until now, really. 

Coincidently, I’ve lived a fairly similar life as Dani. My brothers would hurt my feelings, but they would always end up being the ones who made me feel better too, even if our parents were not there. 

Seeing how much Zach and Pierce love their younger sister, I noticed all the things I was too young or stubborn to see and understand. I never noticed when or why my brothers would come and check on me or just simply show remorse. These, though so simple, were signs of love. 

The joy of love is something I will never take for granted. I can only wish that Dani sees her brothers’ love for her throughout her whole life. 

My relationship with my two big brothers is something I would never trade and will always have immense gratitude for – even when they tell me I look like a monster. 

All thanks to Dani, Pierce, and Zach, I have learned how to look for all the twisted ways my brothers demonstrate their love for me. And maybe one day, Dani will tell a similar story.