“Write a story that ends with the line ‘And this is the room where it happened’.”
Two sisters, four and five, play with their bears, each creating stories from their corner in the bedroom. Each in a world that seeps into the other; overlapping imaginings. The elder, always meticulous, had her bear poised as she brushed its plush fur, telling him a story of a princess in a faraway land. The other, more rambunctious in her approach, had her furry friend bouncing from one side of her space to the other as he chased imaginary bad guys that had tried to steal all his honey.
Two sisters, nine and ten, coming home after a dance class. The elder, frustrated and sad that she had not been selected to pass on to pointe shoes, even though her younger sister had, sat brooding on her bed. She did not want her sister to see her upset.
The younger sister pranced in and tossed her dance bag and her new pointe shoes onto her bed, unconcerned with the fact that her mother would soon come in to tell her to put them away. She was oblivious to her sister sitting quietly on her bed, so she twirled around the room, haphazardly humming the tune to the last song they had worked on in class. Suddenly she glanced at her sister, and seeing something was wrong, was about to ask what was wrong. She didn’t get the chance, however, as her mother came in to put her stuff away and sent her eldest daughter off for a bath.
Two sisters, thirteen and fourteen, once again at odds in their emotions. The eldest doodling in her notebook, writing in her diary about her first love. She looked out the window, wondering what he could be doing, or whether he would message her sometime soon so they could talk.
The younger of the two was on the other side of the window, playing with a tennis racquet and ball on her own, having been turned down when she offered a game.
Two sisters, seventeen and eighteen, one getting ready for her last first day at school, the other packing for the trip to university. Each silently thinking that this would be the first time that they would not be sharing a room. It would be the first year where they would each separately live their experiences without any input from the other.
The youngest sat, unusually still, on her childhood bed, watching as her sister packed up all the things that made her side of the room distinctive: her quilt, the poster of Enrique Iglesias, and, of course, her bear. Once she was done, there were only a few pieces left, leaving a gap that she knew would remain unfilled.
Two sisters, both close in age, grew up with the bond that only sisters can really share. And this is the room where it happened.