Things in life are precious. We are preciouse to ourselves, people close to us like family and friends. Our hearts. Our lives. There are things we think are preciouse. the things which at first look, are beautiful, but can loose their radience in a heartbeat. You’re diamond necklace, or that glass mirror which has passed from one generation to another for hundreds of years. The one thing, which I find almost most precious of all, is my memories. There are many of them. Some happy and some sad. But my greatest fear is forgetting those memories. When I’m older will I be able to look back, and remember and smile. When I was younger in the junior school, I didn’t give memories a second thought. All that mattered was what was there at that moment.
Things have changed since then. I have moved on and life became less simple. I had to take on more responsibility. Look around me more. I could no longer look at something with a quick glance. It took a long time to appreciate all that was around me. But one thing remained the same. The scariest place I could imagine was always there, and it will be to the die I leave the face of the earth, and pass the old mirror to my children. The scariest place is in my head...You have to pass the mirror down-before it breaks...
I could tell from the minute i woke up that like most morning there was tense atmostphere in the house. Dad was in one of her moods, and still in bed with a hangover from last night. I left my little brother Harry at the kitchen table eating breakfast, and I could tell he didn’t want me to leave him with dad.
“Don’t worry. You’ll be on the school bus before mum wakes up.” I promised him, and then rushed out of the house to meat Niomi. I gave her an excuse about sleeping in late. I could tell she knew that wasn’t the reason, but she didn’t say anything. She had learnt that any questions about my home life only resulted in my changing the subject and pretending not to hear. Things were bad at home. School was my reprieve. As we hurried off, I glanced back. It was going to be one of those days.
Niomi and I went separate ways for math. Half way through the lesson, I asked to go to the ladies. Once in there, I phoned Harry on his mobile, knowing that he would be having his break time. He picked up on the first ring.
“Hello?”
“Hi Harry!”
“Rianna hi.”
“Everything ok? How was mum this morning?”
“She got up about 5 minutes before I left. It wasn’t too bad. She just ignored me.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, really meaning it, “I really hate leaving you. Maybe you should come with Niomi and me tomorrow, and I can drop you off at school on the way to ours?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. Really. I’m a big boy now.”
“Yes you are. I’ll have to go now. I’ll see you after school ok? We can go to Starbucks after I pick you up.”
“Ok. Bye Rianna.”
“Bye Harry.” I put the phone down. I always felt really bad about leaving him when I went to school. He had to put up with more than I did. At school he was withdrawn, and didn’t have many friends. At the weekends, I could escape to Naomi’s house for the day; Harry had to stay at home. Some days I took him to Starbucks after school. When I had the money. Those were the days when I skipped lunch, and just picked at Naomi’s food. But I knew how much he loved those days. Anything to hold us back from going home. I sighed. Harry wasn't a big boy. he was only six. I bought him a mobile with my own money. so i could catch up during the day and make sure he was alright. i felt bad for him.
Our mum left when he was born. Dad went into a deep depression and started drnking. I was left to look after Harry. I didn't mind. I felt bad that i had got to know to know our mum and he hadn't. he liked me to describe what she was like, and what things were like when she was around. In his heart he always beleived that someday-she would come back.
"Hey lil' bro!" i said ruffling his hair as we walked to starbucks, "what did you get up to today?"
"I did a painting! of you and me on a picnic. I didn't draw dad though. Dad isn't part of our special family is he?" I only smiled, "where's our realy dad, rianna? i want to know. he can't be our real dad, can he?whens our real dad coming?"
I sighed. "That is our real dad ,Harry."
that's the way it always went. round and round. same questions same answers. We had to get away. i thought it every day, and every night. I didn't know how. Dad would track us down. he'd find us and bring us home again. And when he did, he would be mad. We had tried it before. we left in the middle of the night. i was small and stupid. i had no money-only small amounts of food, and we didn't get far before dad brought us back. Harry was in hospital for a week. I never did forgive myself for doing that to him...
that night when we got home dad was out. the door was open. we walked inside-and there sitting on the stairs infront of us....was mum...
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