Marion Bornschier

Schwester / Sister Missed and Found Marion Bornschier

I was nine. I went into my parents' bedroom. They were both sitting in bed, sitting up. Happy. The sunlight shines onto the north wall, illuminating it a soft and bright white. The floor is warm on my bare feet and the off white furniture is pretty with its gold trim. "Larry Ann ..." my father says. "Hmm?" I'm still a bit sleepy, not fully awake. "Would you like a little brother or sister?" Now I'm wide awake. I look at my father relaxed in bed. Thick eyebrows raised. What about my toys? They would have to be shared. My parents' attention? "No, I don't want a little sister or brother," I said, and jumped on the bed with them. "I want a big sister!"