Isi was sitting on the granite floor, by the latticed window. Pressing her forehead against the cold glass, she stared down. As people went by on the avenue, she would observe them and try to guess their stories. She was particularly interested in those walking with kids by their hands.
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The unexpected clanking of keys outside of the apartment interrupted her thoughts. Isi's whole body tensed in anguish and anticipation. For a second, she couldn't decide whether to crawl under the nearest desk or to run towards the door. She opted by standing up.
"Hello, Isi. Did you wash the dishes? Did you pick up your toys?".
As her mother crossed the door, the girl started scanning her mood, before pronouncing a word. The weary sound in her voice wasn't too promising. The red, swollen circles under the eyes gave the final verdict. Isi paced to the kitchen, getting closer to the door, where her mother was still fighting to get her shoes off.
"Hi, mom". Her voice was a bit shaky, so she cleared her throat. "Where's your uncle? He's supposed to be watching you", asked the mother, glancing at Isi for the first time since she entered the room. The anger in her eyes made the girl back off a step or two. "I guess he's in his room watching TV". No response. "I'll go to my room to read". Still, silence.
While her mother picked the groceries out of the bag, Isi walked back, trying not to run. She entered her bedroom and closed the door behind her, making as little noise as possible. She grabbed a book and crawled under her desk, knees to the chest, back against the wall. "Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, don't cry". The litany she muttered didn't soften the tightness in her chest nor the lump on her throat.
Opening the book, she forced her eyes to follow the words, in an attempt to stop the tears. It didn't work. She couldn't erase from her memory the angry, irate sadness in her mother's stare. That's when she even looked at her. Isi knew the reason. She was a constant and perpetual reminder of an absence. Somehow, the death of her baby brother had erased her from the world as well. At least it felt like it.
No one seemed to notice that she too had an enormous hole in her heart. She was only nine, but she felt way older, despite everyone treating her as a thoughtless child. In an unconscious manner, Isi's right hand moved up to her head. She began to pull her hair, plucking them one by one. And for hours she proceeded to read.
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The next day, when Isi's mother was getting her ready for school, she discovered the huge bald spot. The screaming made it impossible for the girl to explain herself, let alone think about why it was there. All she knew was that the pulling had comforted her. As the scolding went on, Isi closed on herself, blocking the sounds. The next thing she was aware of was the sheets of her bed under her body.
The room was dark and the house was silent. Her mother had left for work, leaving the girl to think about what she had done, presumably under the care of an uncle. Isi had fallen asleep but was very much awake now. She had things to fix. Grabbing one of her stools, she headed to the bathroom. She climbed on it to reach the higher shelf, where the barber kit and the scissors were.
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Hours later, the mother returned home. Isi wasn't there to greet her, so she walked to her room. As she opened the door, once her vision adjusted to the absence of light, a pair of big, needy eyes met hers. Isi was sitting on a stool, hands on her lap, her hair trimmed, so close to the scalp she appeared completely bald.
"Momma, I fixed it, I did. Do you love me now? Momma, please say you love me".
The mother's heart sank in realization. In a gesture full of regret and sorrow, but also love, she opened her arms to welcome her child.