I looked at her tiny figure trying to gather the sand in her shovel at the sandpit. Even at three years of age, she managed to look like a beautiful fairy. Watching her grasp the sand, which slid through in between her fingers a certain obnoxious pride surged through me. I was the elder sister of this angel, I knew her likes and dislikes, I got to dress her hair and pretty her up according to my wishes. This pretty girl would only listen to me and no one else. And somewhere beneath that sense of pride, I felt privileged, privileged to be the elder sister of the angelic beauty, privileged to walk by her side, privileged to receive the VIP treatment she offered to me.

“Unnie, sand not going in!” she exclaimed in frustration as she threw a fistful of sand at the pit causing a few grains to enter my eyes. “Jieun, sand is not going in,” I corrected her as I rubbed my eyes to get rid of the alien particles, “And it is not supposed to go in the tiny shovel, the bucket has been given to you for a reason.”

Jieun’s furrowed eyebrows relaxed and she looked at me in confusion and sadness. It was evident that she did not understand her grammatical error and she was saddened by the inevitability of the sand slipping from her shovel. She looked fascinating to me as I saw her tearing up, most probably due to the edge in my voice. Mother had always told me that I was a little girl and I should act my age, just the way Jieun did. She was three; she did not understand grammar and even the mildest aggression scared her. According to mother, that was fitting of a child.

But I was not like her. No matter how much I tried, I just could not be like her. I liked reading books, any book, I liked being forthright, I liked voicing my opinions. Father told me that it was something called self-righteousness (I had not bothered to look up the meaning) but for me, it was the opposite of what my sister stood for. I was the negative to my sister’s positive, I was the grey to my sister’s light, I was the wrong to my sister’s right.

“Don’t you think you should take care of your sister?” A sharp, distinctly male voice cut through my reverie. I whirled around to see the being that had dared to blame me for my apparent neglect and was met with the most beautiful boy ever. He looked older than I did and he was definitely much taller than I was. He had a stern, set jaw with slim lips, a nose with a sharp bridge, a set of black pearls, which radiated anger now, and the most proportionate forehead I had ever seen.

“Are you as thick headed as you look?” he asked narrowing his eyes menacingly upon me as he brushed my shoulder and made his way to comfort my sister.

I faltered back a step or two, rendered incapable of speech- Was it because he looked like the princes, which fairy tales talked about elaborately or was it because I was thrown at the mouth of reality yet once again? Was it because I felt something in my heart I had never felt before or was it because I was shown my place and judged by my looks?

Looking at him bending down on his knees and caressing my sister’s hair in a bid to stop her tears, I felt my own eyes water up and the frustrating point was that I did not even know why.

“What’s your name?” he asked her, smiling beautifully. The books had not done justice to the prince’s smile. It was so much more sweetly suffocating in real life.

“Please do not touch me,” came the sharp reply from Jieun as she placed her tiny palm on his larger face and pushed him away. “Unnie, sand bad, I want to play doll house with you,” she commanded and holding my finger gave a firm tug indicating it was time to leave. Now you see where the pride and sense of privilege came from. Given my plain looks, it was easy for me to get lost in a crowd of people, turn nonexistent and as harsh as it may sound, I had accepted the fact from the time I saw the reflection of my little sister in the mirror.

She was angelic not only in her looks; she had a heart of gold. Her innate desire to block away reality helped her to make me feel special, make me feel wanted and make me feel recognised. No matter how much I tried I could not hate her, it would be sinful if I detested her.

I smiled at her complete rejection of the boy who had made me feel a surge of emotions in a matter of a few seconds and clasping her palm tightly within mine we head home.

I looked back just once to imprint his face on my mind convinced that we would never meet again and how I regretted it. He looked angered, shocked and above all, confused. I was used to these expressions, which were usually followed by questions like ‘how can they be siblings?’, ‘how can she like her?’, ‘the elder one would be such a buffer in the younger one’s social life’ but coming from him it felt all the more painful.

“Unnie, do you like him?” Jieun asked as she managed another strong tug at my hand. It was not a question of interrogation; it was a question of comparison. The unsaid words were ‘more than me?’ I shook my head and chuckling a little at her open jealousy said, “Nope! In fact, I loathe him.”

She looked convinced although she had no clue what ‘loathe’ meant and neither did I. I just used the word because I had seen it in some book or poster. Little did I know that I had used it perfectly.