I would not say that my sister is a hoarder, but she will be if she continues to get dolls! Nope. If Mom and Dad continue showering her with dolls. She would not have an avalanche if they said no every once in a while. I get it. You do not want to see her sob. But she should learn to be humble. She will grow up spoiled. I do not want a rotten sister. She will be unrecognizable.

When Mom did not reply, I said, "Well? When will you and Dad stop buying dolls for Elsie? When will you tell her to get rid of the dolls that she has now?"

Mom finally spoke. "Elsie cannot get rid of all of them. Her little heart will break."

I looked into her eyes. "I am not saying that she should give them all up. Just half. Her room is super crowded. We cannot get in there. It looks like that a twister came through and dropped off those dolls."

Her face saddened. "How right you are. Your dad and I would love - love - to rid the house of those dolls. A few give me the creeps."

I rested my head in my hands. "You can say that again. So why have you two not done that?"

She hesitated. "...remember the time that Elsie threw a tantrum?"

"I do not. She has never thrown a tantrum because you and Dad purchase her more dolls than she can count. I bet that she does not even play with most of them. And that is why they are on the floor or stuffed in her closet or...wherever else they are. Some may be in the attic or basement. She might as well buy a house for them. But the house can go to a family. A living family."

Mom then said that Elsie indeed had a tantrum. It was the worst - and the only - tantrum. It happened while I was at school. Mom and Dad did not bother telling me. Do not ask me why. My sister was apparently mad that something did not come with her new doll and pleaded with our parents for a replacement. They refused. I am thankful that I did not witness the tantrum.

I did not know what else to say, so I said, "No way. I...I knew that Elsie treats her dolls like family...but I-I had no idea how bad it was."

Mom twiddled her thumbs and bit her bottom lip. "I-it has gotten to the point where Elsie refuses to hang out. She would rather have a tea party with those dolls than spend time with her peers. I am worried for her future. What if she dies homeless?"

I grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "I am positive that she will not die homeless. But she should get help. The sooner, the better."

"Like therapy?"

"Therapy is a good start."

"But she is so young. She does not know any better."

"You and Dad should do something before it is too late for her."

Why am I acting like the parent?

Mom sighed and tugged on her fingers. "I will talk with your father and see what we decide. In the meantime, I have a job for you."

I jumped off my bed. "What is it?"

"Remember when I told ya that you should be proud of your sister?"

"Yes."

"I just received an email from one of Elsie's teachers. It is nothing but great news."

"I will be the judge of that."

This was not the first time that an email was about her. Every week, a teacher sends an email discussing Elsie's accomplishments - if you want to call them that. She is neither a troublemaker nor bullies her classmates. She is just different. Nothing wrong with being different as long as it is not sin. She is an introvert like me, so I can understand why she keeps to herself. Now I am unsure if she is just an introvert - or something more. There is a reason why she is hoarding dolls. But what? I needed to know. So I visited Elsie.

I stood in the doorway and gripped the sides. I was not stepping in her room. No way. "Elsie?"

Elsie was at her table with five of her dolls and pouring "tea" into a teacup. She made eye contact with me. "Hi, ma'am. Are you here for the tea party?"

"I came to talk to you."

"What is your name, ma'am?"

I sighed. "You know my name."

"How can I when I have never seen you before?"

"I am your sister."

"I would know if I had a sister."

Is it bad that I wanted to drag her out?

I gritted my teeth. "I need to speak with you, Elsie. It is serious."

"If you want us to talk...I suggest that you take a seat."

My blood was boiling. "I am not coming in there. It is a hazardous room that will be on fire."

She frowned and covered a doll's ears. "If I were you...I would watch...your mouth."

I lowered my arms. "Why are you taking such dramatic pauses?"

"My dolls said to do it to scare people."

"You do not have to scare folks because you already are creepy." With that, I turned and hurried to the kitchen. "And I was going to give you the good news."

Mom was in the kitchen and cutting veggies and fruits. She does it at the start of the week so both she and Dad have snacks. My stomach growled when I saw the tasty foods. I did not realize how hungry I was until now.

"May I have a slice?" I asked.

"Of course. Take one."

I strolled to the counter and popped a slice of fruit into my mouth. I chewed and swallowed. It was delicious. I smacked my lips and told Mom what happened.

She stopped cutting - and gasped.