Dear you,
Today has changed my life. Yesterday I was a totally different person, but tomorrow I am turning over a new leaf. All this just because I decided to skive maths.
I hadn’t slept well that night. My niece had been up all night screaming, because she’s teething. I pulled myself out of bed, along the corridor and into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I stripped and stepped into the shower, which was on at its full temperature. As I washed I realized that I hadn’t done my maths homework, but it didn’t matter. Maths was fourth, I could just skive afternoon registration and maths and say I was in the medical room with a headache. They say you need maths for every career, but I don’t, I’m going to be an artist.
My daydreams were interrupted by a hammering on the door so violent it brought down the dust from the top of the cupboard.
“Maria, get out of the bloody bathroom!” A voice yelled. Or at least that’s an approximation of what he said. For an eleven year old my brother’s language is appalling. The again, looking at my family, it’s easy to tell where he gets it from, it’s just a good job that I got all the charm.
“I’m in the shower Casey.” I yelled. “Go away.”
“I need the shower more that you, you naturally smell bad, it won’t go away. Lilly made me hold it and it was sick on me.”
“It has a name you know. No wonder she was sick on you, I would be if I were her.”
“Whatever. Can I have the bathroom now?”
“No.”
“MUM!”
I sighed and turned off the shower.
“Maria, is it really necessary to have a shower every day?” My mum asked as I left the bathroom, wrapping a towel round my head. “There are people in Africa-”
“But what can I do about it?” I interrupted.
“Well actually, I was talking to a work colleague yesterday about a project she’s part of.” My mum said as Casey dive-bombed into the bathroom. “You get to write letters to people in other countries. I was wondering if you wanted to do it?”
“How does that help them?” I replied, shaking my head.
“It gives them someone to talk to.”
“Like I said, how does that help?”
“Because it raises their morale.”
“Mum, it’s great that they have lives and everything, but if you’re so keen you should do it yourself. I’m really busy at the moment.”
“I was thinking we could do it as a mother and daughter thing. You could send some of your art! Maria, don’t walk away when I’m talking to you. Maria! Come back!”
Sometimes I hate my mum, I really do. She thinks I don’t remember when I was younger and she used to keep me in a bubble; wrapped in cotton wool. I never went to anyone’s parties and I wasn’t allowed to invite friends round. My mum always taught me not to get attached to anyone, because whatever happened, I would lose them eventually.
“There’s an end in friend.” She told me.
I noticed the pack on the downstairs table as I was leaving to go to school. I leafed through the booklet, not really taking it in and stuffed the pack into my bag.
Later, while I’m skiving maths, I took the pack out again. You have to send the letter in the preaddressed envelope to this company, who forward it to someone else. You also have to put in this form, on which you have to fill in your details and what sort of person you want to write to. I fill in the form and tick ‘don’t mind’ for the country, the gender and the age of the person I’m writing to.
I pulled a bit of paper out of my English book and a pen out of my bag. ‘Dear you, whoever you are.’ I began and from there on, the ink just flowed out, like the pen was an extension of my hand. I poured all my problems down onto the paper, just like the tears that flowed out of my eyes. I wrote about how I haven’t really spoken to my mum much since my dad died; how all the attention has been focussed on my sister ever since she got pregnant; how I cry every time I see a family down at the park, laughing.
And now here I am, ten days later, notebook in hand, writing to you again. I read your letter last night and it broke my heart. Every time Casey complains about there not being enough chocolate and cakes in the house, I tell him about your family, farming the grain you grow. Every time someone asks me for some money, I shake my head and put it in a charity box, so that another family can have a goat to get milk from, just like yours. Every time I see someone drinking a glass of fresh water, and leaving some behind, I think of you, going down to the well in the village- three miles- just to collect something to drink that is probably dirtier than Casey’s used bath water.
I’m going to try and improve my relationship with my family. Bonding. This afternoon I bought Casey and me ice cream and we went down to the park. He was hanging upside down from the climbing frame and he smiled at me. He actually smiled at me. He hasn’t done that for ages. Come to think of it, I haven’t heard him laughing since dad died.
When dad was still around, Casey and I used to hang around together all the time. We’d go and see films at the cinema; he’d come shopping with me; I’d go to football games with him. The night mum told us dad wasn’t coming back I went to my room and cried for hours. Casey kept hammering on my door, asking me questions.
“When will dad be back? Is he on holiday? Why didn’t he say good bye?”
Just like mum, I couldn’t bear to tell him the truth. How do you describe death to a nine year old? Me and mum just went along with Casey thinking dad was coming back, because we all had our own way of dealing with it. I locked myself away in my room; Lily went out a lot; mum ate load more; Casey pretended dad was coming back. I think this weekend I’m going to talk to Casey about dad, because he needs to understand. We’ll go into the attic and get all the old photo albums and leaf through them. Maybe Lilly will join us, with our father’s granddaughter that he never met. We will cry, because now I realise that’s is ok to show your emotions. It isn’t a weakness.
I think I’m avoiding the main point though. Mum. Every time I try to talk to her I either burst into tears or start yelling at her, and she deserves more than that, but I’m just not sure how to approach the situation. I guess for you it’s easier, you have to respect your family, because you all live together in a cramped space. In my family, if there’s an argument, it always ends with somebody leaving the house and returning a few hours later, with a clear head.
Anyway, I’d better go, but I will talk to my mum soon. I have to start somewhere and there’s no time like the present.
From me.
