Young Writers Society

[If you're not up to date with the story, this chapter is pretty much self explanitory. All you need to know is that Henri is my young cousin who I took under my wing, and I... well, I'm less than honorable company.]

I don’t actually remember what it was that brought it to mind. Maybe after four months of living with Henri and being lectured by the Mrs Family Mentor and the Legion of Esper, things finally started to hit home.

‘Henri,’ I sat her down in the living area on April 28th. ‘You and I have got to do something about this.’

‘About what?’

‘Our lives. They’re a mess. We need to tidy them up.’

‘You make no sense.’ She was right.

‘Well, to start we’re going to decide on a schedule.’ I grabbed a piece of paper and drew a clock. ‘In the morning this is what time we’re going to wake up, that’s six thirty. We’re not going to run around in circles either. Instead we’re going to get our things for school ready as soon as we finish our homework.’

‘We always wake up before six.’

‘No, you always wake me up before six. No more of that.’

‘Leon…’ She pouted and fretted a tantrum.

‘You can watch cartoons in the morning until I wake up, but you have to keep the volume down.’ A smile quickly broadened on her face. I thought of explaining the idea that if she was subtle enough for me to not notice she broke the rules, then it was fine - but that‘s not a permission you want to give a small child. ‘Now there’s a chore list.’

The idea was that we would both pull our own weight. Henri would have something to keep her occupied, and I wouldn’t have so much work to do of an evening. I got all the adult chores like ironing and washing - things which have tripled in mass since Henri turned up.

She was to discover how to use a mop and brush. She would keep the table tidy or clutter, and the bedroom neat.

Joint chores included cooking, washing dishes, and shopping.

We decided on a time to do our homework, when I would help her, and she would help me - she insisted.

My studies needed to be picked up too. Sleeping in class was no longer an option, although I still dedicated lunch time to my rooftop retreat. That would become my relaxation time to keep me going until after dinner.

Then there was Karin, a great source of encouragement and endless wisdom. She and I teamed up together, and we did make a good team. I looked after Tommie three nights a week whilst she was in work, including picking him up from school. At first, it felt like babysitting, but after a while I kind of got used to having a second kid around. After a short while it became routine to cook for three.

In return Karin would look after Henri whilst I rekindled my social life. Every other Saturday I had to myself. They where the special days. I would go out with friends and spend many hours doing pointless things just to remind myself that I was still young, and by the end I would almost feel glad to walk round to Karin’s house and get my Henri back.

I won’t lie. There were times when something would come over me like the shadow of a rain cloud, suddenly and unexpected, when I would wish so hard that I could have my old life back and be on my own again. They never lasted though. My perfect life was a slow, steady routine that I performed whilst biding time for the next day. It was an easier life, but it was lonely.

It’s a kind of lonely I didn’t even realise existed until strange things started happening, things that were completely foreign to my logic. When girls told me about things they've been proud of, or things they've enjoyed, I'd smile and say I was glad. I wasn’t thinking about what they wanted to hear, I just responded as I had learned to respond to Henri.

When I went to the single parent support group and heard their stories, I really was happy for them. I started to feel emotionally attached to these people who I only saw once a week. After a while, I even turned up early for the social meeting, and asked them how they where doing. They weren’t too open to it at first. I was an immature school kid who took on extra responsibility without thinking of the consequences. I was the only one in the group who had ‘chosen’ to be a single parent.

The more I opened up though, the more they started to understand. I learned to appreciate having people older and wiser around me. Truth be told I much preferred to feel like I know everything, but when they came to appreciate me for my youth I realised that being young wasn’t such a bad thing.

Okay, let’s take a step back to now, right now. I’m writing all this with the gift of hindsight, so I can understand things clearer, but back then things were still in a muddle. Their opinion and stereotype of me was right, even if I didn’t want to admit it. These people noticed the changes in my attitude first, and I suppose that’s when they started to adopt me as their first junior member.

On April 28th I tacked up the core list and timetable onto the door of one of the lower kitchen cupboards. Henri had decorated it with pictures to remind herself of what the words meant. We were feeling optimistic.

Have you noticed a pattern yet? Things slowly go up, and up, and up, and then come crashing down. Every positive chapter has a warning looming over it. Each time we found a new height, we found a new catastrophe worse than the last.

May 4th would be the day I had to make a decision that would change Henri’s life - a decision that I still feel a sense of anxiety about when I wonder if what I did was right or wrong. Not enough time has passed just *yet* to fully see its consequences.