I was seventeen. Even though my sister and I are five years apart we're extremely close. We do everything together. I play Barbies with her, she play's baseball with me. Our parents are Russian. They adopted the two of us when they were in there forties, because Mum couldn't have kids. Pele and I were one and six back then. At that age we were already attached to each other. I used to climb into her crib to sleep with her at the orphanage. If a volunteer tried to separate us, we would scream, cry, and flail until they put us back together. Pele always slept snuggled against my chest . Her safe zone and my comfort zone.

When Mum and Dad first came looking for a kid to adopt, they wanted a baby girl. Mum spotted my sister with the thick wavy black hair and vivid blue eyes sitting next to me. Pele watched captivated as i drew picture after picture for her. I remained focused, using my little crayons to make yet another master piece for my sister. For a six year old, they weren't that bad. She and I could sit for hours with this one small piece of entertainment. To me her gurgles, giggles, and baby talk sounded like real words.

I would only draw the things she asked me to. When i was given my crayons and paper I wouldn't touch them. Instead I would look toward Pele, awaiting for the magic words that would set my hand ablaze. She giggled joyfully. With a smile I picked up my blue crayon and began to draw a bunch of fairies. Mum told me years later she and Dad only wanted one kid. After seeing the bond Pele and I so clearly shared, they wouldn't dream of separating us. They conserved for a full five seconds before adopting the two of us on the spot.

It wasn't until my sister was eight that we stopped sleeping together. Occasionally if she had a nightmare she'd climb in bed with me, snuggled close to my chest, I would tell her stories to help her forget the bad dreams. Stories of eleven warriors, fairy princess's, and magical dragons. Stories that came alive when i told them. If I had a bad day at school, I would go into her bed to sleep with her, drawing her close.

She had a golden voice. Singing was all she had to do to help me forget my troubles. I only drew pictures and told stories for her. She also only sang for me. It was another one of those things that made our bond special. Not only that but we had a lot in common.

Every day after school I would meet with Pele when her last class ended. She would walk up to me and take my hand "Missed you".

I lead her toward our favorite bench "And you. So what are you today?", I would ask.

Taking our seats her small face scrunched up pondering my question. She broke out in a big smile, her features clearing "A warlock who's come across something shinny".

Taking my sketch book and pencils out of my backpack, I began to draw. A bubble of happiness swelling in my chest as I did my two most favorite things in the world. Drawing and spending time with my other half.