Wanda Daniels
Background for the new Troll I am making.
It was another day, like every other. Wanda rolled out of bed at 6:00am, yawning and grumbling about the early morning. She flipped on the lights in the house, moving into Sandy's bedroom. Sandy turned her head to look at her as Wanda flipped on the light, a bright smile spreading across Sandy's face. Wanda smiled at her older sister, moving over to her bedside to help her swing out of bed.
Sandy stumbled out of bed, flopping on the floor with an 'oof', reaching under the bed for the rag doll she had dropped there. Wanda sighed, smiling softly, kneeling and reaching for the doll, pressing it into her sisters hands.
She stood as her sister played, moving around the room and picking out clothes for her sister. Her shoulders drooped, exhausted as she paused, looking at a picture of her, her sister, and her mother...before her mother had run off, before her father had slept with the wrong woman and died. When things where a bit happier.
She moved about her morning chores: bathing, dressing, and feeding Sandy, and walking her down to the corner to meet her bus to the group home for the day. Sandy pressed her face against the window, waving wildly to Wanda as she watched her drive out of sight. Wanda smiled as she watched the older woman drive off.
She had always taken care of her older sister. Sandy was two years older then Wanda, and Wanda could still remember the bright, smiling, intelligent girl that Sandy had been before the accident. When Sandy had been 6 years old, the girls were playing in the backyard, having slipped out the fence, wading in the stream that ran behind their home. She could still vaugly remember that day...Sandy going out into the middle of the stream and taunting Wanda for not coming in...the log moving down the water and striking the girl at the waist, pushing her under the water and down the stream. Wanda had screamed, sobbing, running in to tell her mother. Her mother ignored her for minutes as she finished her phone call, blowing on her wet nails. Finally, her mother turned to her and Wanda led her outside to the stream.
They found Sandy tangled in branches, not breathing...cold to the touch. The neighbor found her and pulled her from the water, reviving her as best he could. By the time she came around, it was too late. The damage to her brain was irreversible. Wanda fell into a deep childhood depression, oppressing the memories of that day for years, until she was in her early teens, when their mother left.
Her mother left one day when Wanda was 12. She patted her on the head and told her she was going to the store. She swore to be back in a few hours, and that Wanda just had to watch Sandy for a little bit. Wanda adored her big sister, and loved watching her...playing games, singing, watching tv. The two had a deep bond that could not be broken. Wanda was sitting on the front step at 11pm when her father returned from work. She quickly dried the tears from his eyes, trying to be a brave girl. Her father took a look at her, and he knew what had happened. He hugged his daughter gently and took her inside. She had made him dinner and cleaned the house...just like she knew her mother would have wanted her to do.
All through highschool, she cared for her sister. Makeing sure she was up and ready in the morning, and off on the bus to the group home by 7:00am. Her father helped as best he could...but the bond with his oldest daughter had never formed, and Sandy was scared to be alone with him. Wanda missed out on her childhood, but she never mind, because it was for her sister. She couldn't play basketball, because Sandy couldn't be home alone, and the group home couldn't keep her all night long during practices.
She played the clairnet, and was quite good at it...but gave it up when she was 14, to devote more time to Sandy when she grew ill. Throughout the years, Sandy had to undergo multiple surgeries and hospital stays. Around the same time, their father grew ill as well, and Wanda was shaken to her core to learn that one of his mistresses, after her mother, had infected him with HIV.
But through it all, she remained strong. She forced herself to keep her chin up and to keep going. She would not give in...she would not betray her family by giving up. She never cried when her father died, a month after her 19th birthday. She would not allow herself to be weak when she watched Sandy undergo her 13th surgery, to replace a brain shunt. She could not afford to break down into hysterics when her childhood home was repossesed, or when Sandy had to live at the group home for 6 months while she was homeless and living on the streets.
Through everything...she remained strong. She kept her sister close, and made sure that Sandy knew that she was there. It was just the two of them...they had to take care of eachother.
When Wanda was 21, she finally found her dream job...as a guard at a prison in Colorado. She strove to create a new life for her and Sandy...wanting nothing more then to make her life a little better.
It was another day, like every other. Wanda rolled out of bed at 6:00am, yawning and grumbling about the early morning. She flipped on the lights in the house, moving into Sandy's bedroom. Sandy turned her head to look at her as Wanda flipped on the light, a bright smile spreading across Sandy's face. Wanda smiled at her older sister, moving over to her bedside to help her swing out of bed.
Sandy stumbled out of bed, flopping on the floor with an 'oof', reaching under the bed for the rag doll she had dropped there. Wanda sighed, smiling softly, kneeling and reaching for the doll, pressing it into her sisters hands.
She stood as her sister played, moving around the room and picking out clothes for her sister. Her shoulders drooped, exhausted as she paused, looking at a picture of her, her sister, and her mother...before her mother had run off, before her father had slept with the wrong woman and died. When things where a bit happier.
She moved about her morning chores: bathing, dressing, and feeding Sandy, and walking her down to the corner to meet her bus to the group home for the day. Sandy pressed her face against the window, waving wildly to Wanda as she watched her drive out of sight. Wanda smiled as she watched the older woman drive off.
She had always taken care of her older sister. Sandy was two years older then Wanda, and Wanda could still remember the bright, smiling, intelligent girl that Sandy had been before the accident. When Sandy had been 6 years old, the girls were playing in the backyard, having slipped out the fence, wading in the stream that ran behind their home. She could still vaugly remember that day...Sandy going out into the middle of the stream and taunting Wanda for not coming in...the log moving down the water and striking the girl at the waist, pushing her under the water and down the stream. Wanda had screamed, sobbing, running in to tell her mother. Her mother ignored her for minutes as she finished her phone call, blowing on her wet nails. Finally, her mother turned to her and Wanda led her outside to the stream.
They found Sandy tangled in branches, not breathing...cold to the touch. The neighbor found her and pulled her from the water, reviving her as best he could. By the time she came around, it was too late. The damage to her brain was irreversible. Wanda fell into a deep childhood depression, oppressing the memories of that day for years, until she was in her early teens, when their mother left.
Her mother left one day when Wanda was 12. She patted her on the head and told her she was going to the store. She swore to be back in a few hours, and that Wanda just had to watch Sandy for a little bit. Wanda adored her big sister, and loved watching her...playing games, singing, watching tv. The two had a deep bond that could not be broken. Wanda was sitting on the front step at 11pm when her father returned from work. She quickly dried the tears from his eyes, trying to be a brave girl. Her father took a look at her, and he knew what had happened. He hugged his daughter gently and took her inside. She had made him dinner and cleaned the house...just like she knew her mother would have wanted her to do.
All through highschool, she cared for her sister. Makeing sure she was up and ready in the morning, and off on the bus to the group home by 7:00am. Her father helped as best he could...but the bond with his oldest daughter had never formed, and Sandy was scared to be alone with him. Wanda missed out on her childhood, but she never mind, because it was for her sister. She couldn't play basketball, because Sandy couldn't be home alone, and the group home couldn't keep her all night long during practices.
She played the clairnet, and was quite good at it...but gave it up when she was 14, to devote more time to Sandy when she grew ill. Throughout the years, Sandy had to undergo multiple surgeries and hospital stays. Around the same time, their father grew ill as well, and Wanda was shaken to her core to learn that one of his mistresses, after her mother, had infected him with HIV.
But through it all, she remained strong. She forced herself to keep her chin up and to keep going. She would not give in...she would not betray her family by giving up. She never cried when her father died, a month after her 19th birthday. She would not allow herself to be weak when she watched Sandy undergo her 13th surgery, to replace a brain shunt. She could not afford to break down into hysterics when her childhood home was repossesed, or when Sandy had to live at the group home for 6 months while she was homeless and living on the streets.
Through everything...she remained strong. She kept her sister close, and made sure that Sandy knew that she was there. It was just the two of them...they had to take care of eachother.
When Wanda was 21, she finally found her dream job...as a guard at a prison in Colorado. She strove to create a new life for her and Sandy...wanting nothing more then to make her life a little better.