Sugar. (H.S.)

prologue.

I peak over the bundle of blankets in my mothers arm. Something small and squishy lays there, moving tiny arms and tiny feet.

"Is that it?" I whisper to Daddy. He has water in his eyes and on his cheeks.

"Yes Beatrice, that's your baby sister. Her name is Penelope. You can touch her if you'd like."

I turn back to look at her. She seems a bit sticky and discolored. I don't want to touch her.

I squint my eyes at her and she yawns. I don't know what everyone is so worked up about. She doesn't seem very special. She has blonde hair like Mama, but it is thin and sticking straight up. She's too red. Too wrinkly.

"She is kind of ugly."

Everyone around me laughs.

I look up at my Oma and her eyes are leaking too. She takes my hand in hers and brushes back my bangs.

"Come my Mausebar. I have something to show you." She says in her kind voice, using her funny nickname for me. Daddy says it means 'mouse bear' in German, but I think he's lying. I'm not a mouse or a bear.

Oma leads me from the hospital room and I go with her willingly. No one looks up from the blankets in Mama's arms to wave goodbye. Oma leads me to a small room with our coats and finds a rectangular package, covered in sparkling silver wrapping paper. She crouches down next to me.

"When your aunt Clara was born, your great grandmother gave your mother a present."

She hands the package to me, and I waste no time in tearing off the pretty wrapping paper.

"It's a Puppe. A doll. Your Mama received a similiar one." She smiles down at me.

I look at the box. Inside the see-through cover there is a figurine dressed in a beautiful satin purple dress. Her hair is the most pretty though. Long and blonde and shiny. Like Mama's. On the box, written in pink writing is the name 'Maria'.

"Do you like it my girl?" Oma is still smiling at me, her shiny teeth perfectly straight.

I nod my head and clutch the box to my chest. She takes me back to the room with everyone else and my sister in the blankets.

***

It takes 6 months before Mama convinces me to take Maria off of the high-up shelf in my bedroom. I didn't want to because Maria told me herself that if I did she would get ruined. Mama says Maria can't talk, so she put Maria beside my other toys. I don't take her out of her box for another 6 months.

Sometimes we call my sister Poppy instead of Penelope because it is easier and sounds nicer I think. She is okay now that she isn't so squishy and doesn't cry so much. But Mama expects me to play with her by myself now. I don't like that. Poppy doesn't know how to take care of things very nicely. She always squishes my play-doh together so that all the colors are mixed up, and she doesn't know how to put Maria's shoes back on when they fall off. 

Our house is very big. On good days, Mama lets us play outside when Daddy has meetings and she isn't feeling well. Sometimes we get to play with some of the children that Daddy's friends bring along.

Today is a good day. 

The sun shines across the lawn and onto the blanket that Lucy laid out on the grass for Poppy and I. Lucy spends a lot of time with us, but she's always wearing a funny dress. Before Lucy came we had Carmen, but one time Poppy fell and cut her hand when Carmen wasn't watching and then Mama said Carmen had to go away. 

Poppy sits across from me and plays with her blocks. I run a small silver brush through Maria's golden hair, which almost sparkles a bit in the sun. Poppy has hair like Maria's. And like Mama's.