Miriam's Story Corner

"Hey, Love," Miriam greeted.

Her sibling sat in the bay window that was illuminated by colourful lights that were strung along the frame. They fidgeted with a wooden puzzle while gazing outside.

Snow drifted from the clouds to the ground, accumulating by the minute. Street lamps flickered like stars in the sky. It was a few days before Christmas but Miriam's sibling was not feeling festive.

"Would you like to chat?" Miriam inquired. "I have some time to spare before heading out."

Her sibling continued to stare out of the window.

"Sherlock?"

Miriam's sibling whipped around and glared their sister with cold eyes. Their grip tightened around the puzzle and the splintering of the wood could be heard.

"What's wrong?"

"Don't..." their sibling paused, regaining their composure. "Don't call me that."

Miriam stood still, clutching her handbag. She knew the struggles her sibling was going through, both internal and external. She tilted her head in thought and walked up to her younger sibling. She knelt beside them, taking their hand in her own.

"Well," she started. "What do you want me to call you?"

Her sibling sat silently before turning to look out the window. They shrugged.

"How about this? Let's think of some names for you, okay?

"Don't you have somewhere to go?" They asked, rather coldly.

"It is not any more important than being here with you at this very moment."

Miriam's sibling turned back.

"But I want you to hear me," Miriam said. "One's name is of incredible uniqueness. Not only is it given to you at birth, but every name has a meaning. Most names even carry legacies. When someone is named, we are ingrained with all who came before us, for better or worse. It is our job as those name-bearers to do with those names what we will. Either tarnish them or establish and carry on a legacy. Your name is your identity, understand?"

"I understand," her sibling acknowledged. "But...what if I am not my name?"

Miriam tilted her head.

"I do not feel like I am 'Sherlock'," they explained. "He is someone I do not want to be. He is what Father wants me to be. I am not him."

Miriam gazed lovingly into her sibling's eyes.

"I take it you are certain that you want to change your name," Miriam said. "At least, when you are older. I will call you whatever name you want from now on, though. Do you have any ideas?"

Their sibling looked up at the ceiling for a few moments, then shook their head.

"Would it be alright if it was something derivative?" Miriam asked. "Not too similar, but something that still holds that special meaning?"

"Sure."

"Alright then," Miriam spoke. "How about...Shacklock?"

Her sibling's eyebrows furrowed.

"Sherrinford?"

Her sibling shook her head and laughed.

Miriam tapped her chin, deep in thought, searching for that perfect name for her sibling.

"Something...girlier," they said.

"Girlier..." Miriam repeated. "Shelly?"

Her sibling tilted her head back and forth, uncertain about how they felt about the name.

"Oh!" Miriam exclaimed. "What do you think about Shirleigh?"

Her sibling's eyes lit up and it caught Miriam off guard. It had been ages since she had seen her sibling express such genuine joy about something. Her sibling repeated the name to themselves over and over, almost song-like. They faced the window once more, only not to look at the snow falling outside, but to gaze at their reflection in the glass.

"That's the one, huh?"

Miriam's sibling spun back around and nodded rapidly. Miriam was overwhelmed with bliss seeing her sibling's happiness.

"A lovely name for a lovely person," Miriam said.

"Thank you, Mimi."

"Of course, anything for you," Miriam replied. "Now go get ready for bed. You can sleep on it to be sure that is what you truly want, but I will be calling you that until you tell me not to, okay?"

"Okay."

"Good night," Miriam said. "And happy birthday, Shirleigh."