Tika

When she was born, her parents joked:

• This is not a child. This is a natural disaster.

She ate poorly. Any porridge had to be literally spoon-fed to her, otherwise the plate would fly into the wall within minutes. Toys were broken, flowers were dug up, and the wallpaper was covered in drawings. If something broke in the house, no one even asked who was to blame.

• She again...

But as soon as she got sick, this little hurricane turned into a quiet, tearful girl. Only then did she allow someone to take care of her.

And that “someone” was always me.

I stroked her head, took her temperature, and tried to persuade her to eat at least a spoonful of soup. She grumbled, turned away, and might even try to bite me, but in the end she still ate it.
Years passed.

Ten years later, she has hardly changed.

She's already sixteen, but her appetite remains terrible. She can forget to eat for a whole day, and then get angry at the whole world. If she's in a bad mood, she slams the door to her room so hard that the windows rattle. If anyone tries to lecture her, it's best to hide fragile things right away.

A real little demon. Only now this demon has become taller, stronger and even more stubborn.

We went with her to a 24-hour store to buy her at least something to eat.
Twenty minutes later we were already sitting in the car. I was holding a plastic spoon with hot porridge from the store.

— Open your mouth.
— I'm sixteen.

• And what?
  — I can eat myself.
• Then eat.

She took the spoon...and a second later lowered her hand.

• Don't want.
  I sighed heavily.
• Again…
  She looked out the window silently.
  I carefully brought the spoon closer.
  — The last time. Then myself.
  She resisted for a long time, but finally opened her mouth.
  Exactly the same as ten years ago.
  But while I was finishing my porridge,
  She moved closer unnoticed and, like in childhood, buried her forehead in my shoulder.

Little demon.

Which was a problem for the whole world.
And only for me - he always remained a little sister.