Sister, my sister!!!!


Sister, my sister!!!!

For as long as I can remember,  I have been an only child.  Mother’s sweet voice softly sings me to bed. She would lie down beside me and let me tuck my tiny legs inbetween hers because she knew I liked the warmth her skin brings. She would place wet kisses on my forehead and rub it away with her palm. Ruffle my sponge thick hair but smoothen it out with a comb just so I can look pretty for school the next day.
She was there when I woke up, walk me to school and wait for me with open arms with sweets and goodies she knew I loved.
Father was always away, one week at a time. Sometimes two. But whenever he was around, he would take me on piggy rides. He would let me play with his tools. He was a mechanic you see,. I told him I wanted to be like him when I grew up. But he would laugh , his big hearty laughter and pinch my nose..
” You my darlyn are going to be a star. You don’t need grease and slime all over your pretty dress and under your nails. You would trot the stage. Strike a pose and sign autographs for your old pa. And bring a rose by your mother’s.  You know she likes white lilies??” … and he would carry me in his arms and twirl me around around in a tiny legs flying in the air and my squeal and laughter reaching the heavens.
I loved pa. I loved ma. I love me with pa and ma. Three of us. Alone. Together. Forever. I was their little princes. And to me…this was the fairytale ending I needed. Untill.
That fateful day.  When she came into our lives.
Mother was alway tired. She couldn’t read me bed time stories. She often repeatedly chided me of being too old to be read one.
She didn’t come to tuck me in my bed. Or comb my hair as beautiful and attentively as she used to do. She couldn’t walk me to school and wait for me to come back with goodies and sweets as she used to .

Pa came home more often than before and always tells me to allow mum rest.
“Whats wrong with mummy” ? I asked him one day as she laid on his chest. While he rocked her to sleep.

“She is just tired baby. Mummy isn’t feeling too well and needs lots of rest. So that means no tantrums.  No shouting. And no disturbance ok? ” He patted my head.

“But who would play with me. Who would read to me. Who would do all the things mum and I used to do?” I pouted. Staring at him and mother. My eyes poolled.

“I will my sugarplum. ”

“But you aren’t always here. Mum is always here. I need mum to be always here to play with me. And love me and pay attention to me” ..I poked my sleeping mother. When she didn’t open her eyes. I began pulling and pushing her awake. I didnt stop when father asked me to.

“Wake up mummy. Wake up mummy. Come play with me mummy.  Mummy.  Mummy. MUMMY!!!!!!” I screamed.

“STOP IT . “!!! father smacked my face. “You aren’t a child for Christ’s sake. You are thirteen years old. You are a big girl. Let your mother rest. Go to your room now and get to bed. NOW!!!!!”

Shock enveloped me. Father had never screamed at me this way  before. Father had never laid a hand on me before. I ran into my room. Banging the door and soiled my bed with tears.

I heard someone come in. I felt my bed sink in.   I knew who came in. But I didn’t care. I turned my back to the wall and closed my ears. Letting the tears flow and my nose drool.  I didnt bother to wipe it.

He pulled me into his arms and began rocking me. Singly softly as mother used to. Untill the tears stopped flowing. Until I released my muscles and let sleep take over. Later that night I could feel wet kisses to my forehead and someone smoothing my hair. I knew father had left and mother had come. And I thought, yes. Finally mother had come back to me. To love me. Be with me. Like always. Forever.
But you see, I was wrong.
I found her two days later in the bathroom, bent and her face in the toilet seat. The sounds she made and tip tap sound of rushed thick cloated liquid leaving her throat and sinking into the toilet water. And then she slumped. Father rushed in, gathered her in his arms and rushed her away.
I have always hated the smell of the white house. The smell of antiseptic and medicine. I hated the way they looked at me. Talked to me when I ran a fever. I hated most especially the pokes I received and the jabs. And their white coats, bespeckled glasses and funny handwritings. I hated the white house and didn’t understand why we had to be here …for hours.
Untill father shook the man with white beards . Untill father picked me up and plasted my face with kisses. Untill mother came through those doors. Untill father and mother embraced, her lips disappearing into his. His big palm covering her small tummy. Then I knew.  I knew everything had  changed. For the worse.  I was not going to be the only one. I was not going to be their little princess anymore. And I didn’t like that feeling. I didnt like it at all.
It took me a long time to plan it. And as the days, weeks and months went by. Mother became worse. Father paid attention to mother who paid attention to the tiny bump in her tummy who happened to be the sadness and hatred that had cloated my little heart.

She was my mother. He was my father. And they loved me. Only me. Another one would mean they would never love me. And I didn’t want that. Everything had changed. 
They came home, in the wee hours of the morning..
Father was dressed and waited on me to join him. As we drove them home. I sat beside the carrier. I saw her tiny little fingers . I heard her baby babbles. But I felt nothing. Instead I felt my chest tighten when mother and father coo-ed her. I felt pain when I saw everyone, neighbours and far away relative dropped by..with gifts. Dotting on the little  one.
I was dressed my best. I combed my hair and yet, no one noticed. Not even mother. Not even MOTHER!!!! …

So I waited untill the last person was at the door. I waited untill no one was near her tiny little bed.
I looked in. And there she was, playing with her toes.
She stared up at me. Smiling. As though she knew me. As though she knew I was family.
“Aren’t you scared little one. ? Don’t you know why I am here?. You took mother away from me. You took father away from me. It’s meant to be me. Just me. And that’s how it should be. And its going to be like that ….again. !!!”..

But she giggled. And giggled. Her tiny hands darting every where. Her eyes laughing at me . Telling me am wrong…

And then I heard it. Those voices in my head. They speak to me. They tell me . They say…they say…
“Make her stop. Make the baby babbles stop.”..

I found my hands lifting the pillow. Over her bed and over her head. I saw it drop. I hear her muffled cries. You see, I was strong. So I didn’t stop.
Untill she stopped. I didnt stop till the baby babbles had stopped…

I don’t hear them say anything. The voices in my head. But all i see..
It’s been two months.  Mother had put away away her black.  Father had gone back to work and here I am. Wrapped up in mother’s embrace as she sang me to sleep.

This is what I always wanted. To be with mother. And father. Alone.  Because they had to love only me. Father says …mother says ” you are our little princes” …how can I be that if there was another. Or if i ever grew up. This is what I wanted. This is what i want. And this is Forever.  Mother. Father and me. Forever! !!!!
The End!!!!


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