one year later (and a little bit more)
She was always four years younger than me, until one day she wasn't.
She had dark, serious eyes akin to those of a rather wise puppy, and clung to her mama a lot when she was little. She liked roller coasters but hated video games, because she thought they took all her kor kor's attention away from her.
When she was four, and her face was divided into two perfect, solemn halves by her fringe, she would hover and watch quietly while we ran rampant through sand and mud and seawater. I wasn't the eldest among us, but the eldest didn't care, so I became her eldest.
It wasn't easy being old, even more so with her. But she only ever cried during two periods of her life, near the beginning and near the end, so it was okay.
She loved theme park rides, but she loved them even more when we got to cut the queue and go up in the elevator with her because one day she couldn't take the stairs.
Her hair was the perfect length for braiding, until it wasn't. She had nice nails for painting but she didn't like makeup, and I would buy her foils for her birthday she would later never use. She liked loom bracelets for a while, and my sister and I would crowd in her bedroom, picking out rubber bands in our favourite colour.
She made rainbows, the same colour as the bandanna she wore to hide the fact she didn't have hair anymore.
Part of me thinks she's the reason her kor kor doesn't believe in God anymore, and the reason why my sister does.
She was an angel. Except now, she still is.