Our people say that you should not curse the land you walk upon.
They are right. They are wrong. They have no say on where you step on, but I heard about her. For every time I blink, I imagine what she would look like, her laughter, her touch, her hair…her teeth, her footsteps.
When they are not watching, I walk down to the river, sit on the big rock by the bank, talk to the water, ask it to bring her voice my way.
She was a rare beauty.
She was a lovely soul.
She had the moon in her eyes, the sun in her smile and the wind in her walk.
I listen and send my pleas to the river, how the water flows…miles and miles away, taking our stories, hopes, dreams, fears and pain down a path unknown to us. Where does the river end her journey? I once asked and Father told me to go and ask the river, it might give me an answer to my question.
How do you live your life as a shadow? I’ll tell you…you take a breath when the world is asleep, look not into people’s eyes but stare at the steps they leave behind when they walk away from you…and finally, you visit the river every day asking her to bring back to life the sister you never met.
For like the stars, she shines brightly but is so far away that if she were to come closer…then maybe, just maybe, you would take a breath when the world is wide awake, and finally they’ll get to see you.