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1.
Otto had been but an infant when he met her the first time. He could barely take his first steps out of the crib on his own, trotting around on stubby legs with the endless curiosity only a child could possess. Restless, he was, yet on that day he could only stand perfectly still and silent, gripping at his mother’s legs as he studied the girl across him with vivid interest.
She was older than him. Taller, yes, but not as imposing as the large man next to her – the same who was making sweet remarks to his mother who would respond with giggles and seemed to irritate the girl. Otto had forgotten what the adults were discussing, but the frown on her face was imprinted in his mind. She was glancing between them with thinly veiled haste, a feeling the limited toddler could not understand. Overtime Otto would come to learn that her disliking of his mother came from a place of discomfort: a natural one considering the circumstances, yet still impossible for him to grasp until many years later.
Eventually she had turned back at him, glancing at his round face through her curly bangs. The look she gave him was neutral until her father – their father pushed her to change her attitude and spend some time with him. Otto himself had been doubtful, but since both of the adults remained in the room while the children sat away, he could approach her with ease.
Her name was Sisi. It rolled easily on his tongue even as a young one, so he never held himself back when it came to calling out to her.
Sisi was kind. Though she was hasty towards his mother, when she and Otto moved in to live with their new family, she had been nothing but gentle with him. When they played, their parents would always lecture her about keeping an eye out for him as it was her duty. “The little woman of the house”, they called her. A variation of the term was something that would later be aimed at Otto himself, yet they had drastically different meanings. Its intricacy was meaningless to him back then.
Nevertheless, Sisi would comply, and little Otto was more than ecstatic to have a playmate that was actually interested in spending time with him for more than ten minutes. And Sisi was so, so much fun to be around. She was a smart kid, one that could come up with the craziest of stories to act out. He loved pretending to be knights and princes and princesses and monsters with her. No matter what role she assigned him, he’d follow it to a tee. And it was not just her requests he followed: saying he was attached to her hip would have been an understatement. Their parents cooed over his behaviour, calling it charming and sweet, and Sisi did not seem to mind. Not once had she pushed him away, as far as Otto recalls. There would be arguments at times, but nothing more than siblings bantering – then they’d be right back as they were. With his little hand tugging at her fingers.
2.
When she had to leave everyday for school, a year or so later, Otto could never stop himself from crying. Embarrassing of a memory as it is, he initially could not understand why his favourite person in the world had to leave every day. He begged to go with her, clutching at her shirt and getting tears and snot all over it, but his sister had reprimanded him for .
“When you’re old enough you can come and have your own classes,” she’d tell him every time. So he’d ask her when he could, and she always said soon. Time could not pass fast enough.
She gradually grew annoyed with him as days of repeating the same thing went by, but Otto could not put his despair away in a box. Not when he had to wait hours for her to return. So he sat by himself at home, waiting for her to be back. Whenever she crossed through that door, Otto would run up to her without fail. Sometimes he stumbled and sometimes she caught him. Other times, she didn’t. But Otto was always happy to see her return.
Eventually time came for him to begin his journey as a student. He was enrolled in the same school Sisi was and his disappointment was immeasurable when he realised that they would most likely not be able to see each other until school was over. Yet the boy had grown thicker skin: he learnt to wait. And wait he did. Every day, when classes were over, he stood at the entrance waiting for her so they could walk back home.
They walked hand in hand, back to an empty home. Their parents were out working, but it didn’t particularly matter to Otto. Not if he had Sisi to spend his days with.
However… upon entering in contact with so many new children, something had caught his eye.
“Sisi,” he said one day as they were making their way back, “Why don’t I look like you?”
She glanced down at him with an inquisitive look. “What do you mean?”
“Some kids at school look just alike, like they’re copies of each other. I’ve seen them.” He elaborated. His sister smirked to herself, like he had said something funny.
“Those are called twins,” she explained, “They have the same birthday and look the same because they were born together.”
She was so smart.
“Can we be twins?” He asked innocently. Sisi shook her head. Otto frowned. “Why not?”
“Because we were not born on the same day, silly. You’re younger than me.”
Otto pondered this information carefully.
“… But I’ve seen other kids who look the same and they don’t have the same birthday.” He reasoned. “They have the same last name, like us. So why don’t I look like you?”
Sisi took a little longer to answer his question.
“Because my mom is not your mom, and your dad is not my dad.”
Now it was Otto’s turn to be confused, “But they are.”
Sisi looked away from him, turning her gaze straight ahead. “I mean your real dad. And my real mom. My dad had me with my mom, and your dad had you with your mom. That’s why we look different.”
The little boy was quiet. Aren’t brothers and sisters supposed to have the same mom and dad? They did, but according to Sisi, they didn’t at the same time. It was truly a paradox in his eyes. A fear made its way into his little brain and the boy clung to her arm, clasping the hand he was holding with his other.
“Does that mean… I’m not your brother?”
He tried to keep his tone from shaking, but tears were already threatening to form in his eyes. The world was seconds from falling down all around him and his sister was taking her time with her answer. Eventually, when she spoke, she sounded firm.
“You are. Because I said so.”
The weight of the world was lifted off his shoulders with a simple squeeze of her hand. He uttered a tiny “okay” and dried his tears under his glasses. He failed to notice how his hold remained tight, but hers went limp.
3.
Otto didn’t have many friends growing up.
Truth be told, he actually had close to none. He was cordial with other children, yet he was not very interested in the games they played. There were times where he would join his peers, yet he mostly preferred to keep to himself. He found great interest in the fantasy books the school’s library had to offer, oftentimes borrowing them so he could read them at home. He was fond of telling Sisi all about the plots, who sometimes was very interested in the conversations and would even comment on ways to improve the stories where they lacked.
He did great in school. His grades were high, his reading and learning skills were past those of the average student and he was generally well behaved. His parents had nothing to complain – they didn’t know much about his school life, or life in general to begin with, but they were relatively satisfied with having such a well-mannered son. The other kids weren’t as erudite, but to him it didn’t matter as he rarely ever considered them. Yet, they rarely considered him, too. Once they realised how little investment he showed in their games, they stopped inviting him to play. Saying he couldn’t have cared less was an understatement.
At times, his teachers wondered why he couldn’t seem to insert himself into the class group. They never pried too much, of course. Adults were meant to be polite and reserved. As for himself, Otto reasoned that as long as he had Sisi to play with him, he wouldn’t ever feel alone.
Until Sisi stopped coming home with him every day.
The first time it happened, she told him she’d only accompany him home and that she’d be going to the playground with her friends. Otto asked if he could come too, but she said no. When she came back home it was late in the afternoon, just before their father would return from work. She had a beam on her face that made Otto’s stomach twist. The little boy asked to play together but she declined again.
“I’m too tired today,” she said, “We’ll play tomorrow. Don’t tell dad and your mom I went without asking, okay?”
He promised he wouldn’t. This time.
But then it happened again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again.
Days went by and suddenly Sisi would leave him to himself more than twice a week, only returning before their parents did. Sometimes she even brought her friends over. To Otto’s mild surprise, she didn’t have many, but it was a tight group of kids and it soon became very evident that there was not a way for him to insert himself into their activities. They never… excluded him directly, not saying anything about him clinging to his sister’s side whenever they were over, but Sisi made it more than clear that they did not want him around.
She snapped at him and ordered to leave her and her friends be. She never talked to him like that before. It shocked him so much that the only conceivable conclusion he could reach was that her friends had complained about his presence. He couldn’t stand for it – it was fine if she had friends, but not if their presence was bringing the two of them astray! They had no idea what it was like, to be just the two of them.
So the next day, when their parents came back home, Otto confessed to what she’d been up to. Naturally, a huge argument erupted – one where Sisi ended up being grounded for the whole week. He tried to ignore the yelling and the spanking, yet his heart broke a little when he saw his sister be sent to her room with puffy eyes and tears running down her cheeks, still massaging the place where she had been hit.
She didn’t talk to him for a few days after that. It hurt him when she pulled her hand away when they were walking back from school, but ultimately Otto was certain that things would go back the way they were eventually.
4.
Sisi got sick.
It was bound to happen, truly. Things had not been going well for Sisi. She had become less focused on school, acting out and getting angry and at times even aggressive, which caused even more conflict between the walls of the house. She was stressed, Otto could tell by the way she ignored him sometimes. Either that, or she’d bluntly tell him to leave her be. It was because she was not eating enough due to punishments.
Otto understood. He was the only one who could understand how strict their parents were in spite of them never being there – words his sister had screamed at them in one of the now frequent fights. He was powerless to stop it, just as she was. They were one and the same.
It was supposed to be a light fever. Nothing too serious, the doctors had assured the family. Some rest would have done wonders for her. So their parents obliged: she was to remain home until she felt better. Of course, this did not stop them from berating her, but at least they didn’t discipline her anymore. His parents were not monsters after all.
Selfish as it may have been, Otto silently relished in the fact that she couldn’t run off with her friends anymore. He could finally spend time with her without the threat of an argument. He mostly sat on her bedroom floor, playing by himself out loud so she could also hear what he was doing – so she could “play” without straining herself. He knew she enjoyed the company because sometimes she cracked a smile. When time came to go to bed, Otto would usually go without complaints, but one night he couldn’t.
He had a very bad dream. After waking up, he ran straight to Sisi’s room dragging the blanket along with him. His sister slept through the sound of the door opening, but flinched when the light in the corridor was turned on. He called out to her childishly.
“Sisi…”
She raised her head from the bed, turning to face him with sleep still threatening to shut her eyes.
“I can’t sleep. Can I stay here with you?”
He heard her sigh. Nevertheless, she made room for him in her bed. He was quick to hide under the covers and curl up next to her.
“What did you dream?” She whispered to him.
Otto shuddered. “I don’t… remember. I just woke up feeling very scared.”
She closed her eyes. “It might be a good thing that you don’t remember. You have no reason to be afraid, then.”
“Do you remember what you dream about?”
Sisi shifted in the bed, creating more space between them. She didn’t face away from him, even holding her arm out to hold his little hand. Otto grabbed it with both his own: she was warm.
“Sometimes.”
“Are they bad dreams?”
“Yes.” She didn’t hesitate. “And they feel so… real. Like us talking right now.”
“That’s scary,” Otto muttered.
“It is. Especially when there is a monster running after you.”
The boy attempted to snicker, but his statement came out more shaky that he intended, “But monsters are not really real.”
His sister noticed, because he could see a devious little smile stretching on her barely illuminated face.
“They are,” she retorted and his smile fell as her tone grew more jokingly menacing, “Who knows, they might even decide to come get you if you’re mean to me.”
“Don’t say that!” He urged her, pushing her shoulders a bit, making her giggle weakly. She coughed and Otto immediately retracted his hands, shooting her an apologetic look. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she whispered, “I’ll be alright. Let’s sleep now. If the monsters come, we’ll be fine.”
“We will?”
Sisi nodded. “Yes. We won’t get hurt if we are together.”
5.
She wasn’t healing. The doctors said she’d be better in a week’s time with the proper rest. Why wasn’t she healing?!
Otto couldn’t understand. His sister was bedridden and in pain: his parents were twice as angry because they couldn’t afford to pay the doctors and even then, they couldn’t figure out what her problem was. She had all the normal symptoms of a fever, as well as a strong pain coming from her lower back. That was the only unusual thing about it.
Though their father had ordered him not to stand to close to her to avoid infection – “God knows we don’t need another sick kid we can’t afford to pay for!” were his exact words – Otto couldn’t help but wander over to her room at any chance he could. He did it in secret, when his parents weren’t home.
The pain was starting to get to Sisi. Otto couldn’t blame her, so he didn’t get mad when she angrily told him to get out of her room and leave her alone. He understood. But he couldn’t leave her alone: she needed company. He knew she did. She’d be sad if she was to be left all alone.
He stuck by her side. When she realized he wasn’t leaving, she quit bothering.
She told him about her nightmares sometimes. About the strange places she’d visit and the people she met in them. Mostly other children, but sometimes she could met adults – monsters, as she called them. He enjoyed when she told him about them: it was a secret only the two of them could share. Their little thing. And then, there was something else. “The Ferryman,” is what she called him. Otto knew what a “ferryman” was: people who take other people around on boats. But this Ferryman was different. Sisi didn’t see him on a boat once.
“He’s kind of… there,” she elaborated one afternoon while Otto sat at the foot of her bed with his supper plate on his legs, “Not really doing anything. He just stares at me with his hollow eyes.”
The boy tilted his head, “Hollow?”
“Yes. They look empty, like two sockets. Not like yours or mine. It’s like he doesn’t belong where we do, if that makes sense.”
It didn’t.
“He’s not really bad like all the others are. He’s scary looking, but he doesn’t chase me or try to hurt me. He even helped me once, and held my hand when I was scared. It was massive and… slimy, but… warm. Like he wanted to help me.”
“He sounds like a weird guy though,” he commented. “I wouldn’t hold his hand if it’s slimy.”
“He wouldn’t have helped me if I didn’t. Plus, he was kind to me, unlike the others.”
Otto’s eyes fell over one of the drawings they had been making earlier. He brought her some pencils and crayons to colour and she did not disappoint. Her art skills were pretty advanced for children their age. One of said drawings represented just this moment: her tiny figure holding on to the much larger beast.
“He sounds more like a monster than the others by his looks.”
Sisi shrugged. “Things there are strange. I don’t… feel bad when I’m there. Nothing hurts.”
Otto didn’t like the way she said that. The image of her smile when she returned from a play date with her friends flashed in his mind.
“You won’t feel bad here soon. You’ll be fine.”
His sister sighed. “I know. I just… wonder why the Ferryman told me that –“
The sound of the front door opening interrupted the conversation abruptly. Their mother had come home early to take care of Sisi. Otto sprinted out of the room with both their plates in hand. Sisi hadn’t touched hers at all.
6.
It happened at night.
Otto was sneaking back into her room to keep her company as he had been doing every night since she got sick. To his surprise, when he creaked her door open, his sister was not in her bed. She didn’t have the strength to walk, not with her debilitating back pain. It had gotten even worse, causing her to howl and cry in pain. She rarely could sleep because of it and when she did, it she fell asleep heavily. He turned to see if she had dragged herself to the bathroom, but right as he did so, the covers on her bed shifted. He glanced back and there she was, laying on her back with a preoccupied expression. The little boy shook her awake, getting a rather irritated “What?” in response.
“You were gone,” he said breathless. His sister looked at him like he had grown a second head.
“No I wasn’t. I was sleeping.”
“I know – you had… disappeared, when I walked in. And then you just reappeared.”
Sisi glared at him.
“Is that why you woke me up? Because you imagined something?”
“I didn’t! You were gone!” Otto insisted. His sister’s head fell on her pillow, holding both sides up to her ears in irritation.
“I did not! I didn’t move at all! Why do you always do this?!” He opened his mouth to defend himself, but his Sisi was faster, her voice raising with no care for their sleeping parents, “You keep coming in here and bother me with – with stupid things like that! Even in sickness I can’t have a moment of peace!”
She didn’t mean that. But it hurt nonetheless.
“I come here to make you feel less alone!” He exclaims, a bewildered look overtaking his chubby features.
Sisi rolled her eyes and scoffed before sarcastically adding, “Wow, lucky me! Did you ever stop and ask me if I wanted you here or not?! No, forget that – have you ever listened to me when I told you I wanted you to leave?! I want to be alone! Alone, Otto, do you know what that means?!” She didn’t give him the time to reply. “No! You always have to… to be there! Everywhere I go, you have to come with me, and I can’t even have a night of sleep to myself that you come running in scared that a monster is going to eat you when you know that I am not getting any good sleep, and that my back hurts like hell! It hurts to bad that I want to rip it all out. Did you know, Otto, did you?!”
“I do!” he shouted back, “I know that you’re hurt! I –“
“Then why do you not care about me enough to listen to my wishes?! Are you really that selfish?!”
She doesn’t mean it, Otto told himself. She’s saying this because she’s hurt and not thinking properly. But his chest hurt. His lungs felt like they were full of water, as if he was drowning. Tears were threatening to spill out at any second.
“You are the one who’s selfish!” He retorts, “You keep saying all these mean things to me when all I want is – is – to be your friend! And I want you to be my friend, too!”
“Why is it always about you?!”
Her shrieks had grown to the point where their parents must have heard them. Movement in the other room was frantic: they were awake. Otto could already imagine their anger if they saw him in her room, but he was too angry and hurt to care. He just wanted Sisi to go back to being his kind, dear older sister, and not this… mean person who kept being rude to him – who spoke to him like she hated him. His Sisi didn’t hate him.
“What’s going on here?!” “What are you two doing awake?”
The voices of their parents sounded so distant to his ears. Sisi’s eyes widened in fear, that much he could see: in his anger, an idea popped in his dazed brain. One he would come to regret for the rest of his life.
She was suffering. Otto knew. But he was suffering too. So much that he could not stop sobbing, holding his chest like his heart was being torn apart. She couldn’t possibly understand in how much pain he was, how much her words cut deep. And selfish, selfish little boy he was, he turned to his mother with snot running down his red face, pointing his finger at his sister.
“She – She was trying to leave!” he babbled out, pretending not to hear Sisi’s gasp, “I saw her and whe-when I tried to s-stop her, she – she hit me!”
The expression on their father’s face was indescribable. Even then, what Otto remembered most was his Sisi’s response: or, well, the lack of one. She was dead silent even as their mother screamed at her, and even when their father hurried to lock the windows and threatened her that as soon as she got better, she’d get punished. All she did was glare into Otto’s eyes, wide and filled with an emotion he did not want to name, but too large to ignore. He hid in his mother’s arms instead, though he could feel her eyes burn into his back.
It was for the best, Otto thought. She needed to calm down.
The next morning, Sisi was gone.
7.
Otto spent years repeating that night in his mind.
Years of incessantly pondering what could have happened to his dearest Sisi, not understanding how she could have possibly disappeared without a trace. No matter how many search parties were formed to look for her, no matter how many theories those idiot investigators could come up with, all of it was useless. Utterly useless. And for a time, adding to the pain, there was hatred. Hatred towards his parents for the way that they were – and hatred towards himself, for not being able to protect her. These thoughts followed him through his early teens and beyond, until slowly, ever so slowly, the pain began to dampen.
Grief never truly leaves: it only fades, just like a scar, until it is touched yet again. He had left it untouched for decades. He built himself a life, moved on, managed to get back on track in spite of his troubled records as an adolescent with “outbursts”.
Until Noone came around.
Bright young girl, she is. Unremarkable in almost everything except… her peculiar medical past, and her current condition. Her nightmares. Otto has heard all about them during the past sessions they had together. They are interesting on their own, yes, but there is something else he had grown much more interested in as he patiently listened to her recountings.
The Ferryman.
The same creature who had haunted his beloved Sisi has now returned from the abyss, ready to claim yet another victim. There is no doubt in his mind that his sister’s disappearance was his doing and his alone. Sisi described him as being kind; Noone mentioned he was helpful. Oh, his heart aches for his poor, naïve sister. Even a someone as smart as she could be tricked by someone with evil intentions.
Otto’s eyes travel around the room until they finally land on a picture, one he had kept hidden away on his shelf. A picture of Sisi, beaming at the camera in her favourite yellow dress. He almost wants to smile back. Has she changed at all?, he wonders. No, certainly not. His sister always had a very strong personality; Otto is fairly certain that she has not changed a bit. If he were to hold her hand now, she would squeeze it back, just like she did when they were children.
His heart hurts, yet his mind is more lucid than it has ever been. He needs to concentrate, now more than ever. As much as he cared for Noone, Otto needs her to tell him more about the Ferryman. He needs to get to him, to grab him by the collar, force the bastard to tell him where he brought his Sisi and –
Someone knocks at the door. A quick glance at the clock is enough to tell him who it is. It’s time for his next session with Noone.
Otto takes in a deep breath. All in due time.
He gives his Sisi one last glance. Her eyes are lost, not truly looking back at him. That is quite alright, though: a growing feeling in his chest tells him he won’t have to look at the figment of his sister anymore.
“Come in.”