Welcome to the World

I was born in a land on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean where Asia and Europe meet. In a tiny village right in the middle of that land. I don't know much about the day I was born other than it was a Monday, time unrecorded, no pictures, in a house with the help of a village midwife. I was the third born and the second daughter; the one before me, Selma, died when she was a few months old at home in my 21-year-old mother's arms. Reason unknown; she could not breathe and turned purple while my mother was desperately crying for help. She was alone while my dad was out of town, and she could not take her to the hospital. My mother just sat there and cried, helpless, holding her little angel who had just gained her wings until her mother-in-law came back from wherever she was that day.It was not usual for a married couple to live with the male's family back then. My father came back home and took little Selma's body while my mother was in shock and lost touch with reality, and he gave her to the graveyard groundskeeper. Therefore, we do not know where she was buried; Selma does not have a known grave for anyone to visit, and my mother has nowhere to go to mourn to this day. We almost never talk about Selma like she never existed, but I think of her often. Maybe because she also had blue eyes like mine, a gift given to us by our mother...An unusual eye color in the land where Selma and I were born. I often think about what it would be like being three sisters as I am very close with my younger sister. I often talk to Selma, hoping that she could hear me. I guess I just don't want her to be forgotten. It is too painful for my mother, so I usually don't mention my older sister.

So, I was born two years after Selma without any medical help, again in the same house, with the help of a village midwife. I was named by my five-year-old brother, the king of the household because he was, he is...a boy..a male who would proudly carry on the family's name. I find it very ironic to be named by the person who would shape my future. Who would know that then innocent little boy would become my lifelong abuser? Who would know that she would consistently visit my dreams to this day?