The Water Sisters: Chapter One

It was her birthday. She was eleven turning twelve, or at least that’s what her parents had told her earlier that year. Nothing was different as she sat in her vibrant, lively classroom of Mosman public school. No one knew it was Lee’s birthday and she liked it that way; less attention.

Lee was different than the other children in grade five. She wasn’t simple minded, or bubbly, she was just Lee. She sat by herself in the farthest corner of the class and avoided attention at all costs. She kept to herself and wasn’t known for her expression of emotion. Some saw Lee as being a freak, maybe even mysterious, but that’s only because she had never let anyone into her head or heart. She didn’t particularly try to be antisocial, it just happened. Lee had never been close to anyone in the class, and if asked, probably wouldn’t even know all their names. Her theory was that if you were satisfied with having your own company, why have anyone else’s? They’d never know what’s going on in your mind, and if you told them, they still probably wouldn’t.

Today was an art day, and the eager students were asked to draw an image of how they felt. Lee sat there, peering at her class mates’ drawings. There were butterflies, sunsets, racing cars and anything else that would make a twelve year old happy. There was no real emotion, no personal emotion, just things that were supposed to make you feel a particular way. Lee’s teacher saw her smooth, untouched paper.

“And what will you be drawing Miss Lee Ferguson?”

She was clearly unimpressed with the lack of progress of her artwork. Lee looked up for a moment, intensely staring into her teacher’s eyes, wondering what she was feeling, what her dreams were when she was young. Lee finally returned to planet earth, to come to the realisation that her teacher was still waiting for an answer.

“I don’t know what to draw” she answered dazed.

“Draw how you feel dear” Mrs. Landers stated impatiently.

“And what if I don’t feel?”

“We all feel Lee” she stated as if it were the most stupid question she had ever heard in her time of teaching.

Lee turned to stare out the window to the deserted playground.

“Well, do you feel happy, sad, angry, loving, anything?”

Still staring out the window, Lee bluntly answered, “Nothing at all Mrs. Landers, I’ve learnt not to”.

The bell rung and another uneventful day had passed. As Lee walked home, she thought about what Mrs. Landers had said. What does Lee feel? Happy is immediately crossed off the list due to the constant instability of her life. Sad could be crossed off too, because she had grown accustomed to the instability. She wasn’t angry nor was she loving, she was just numb.

When Lee arrived home, she stood in front of her broken front door; she took a moment to observe the deteriorated terrace. Its wall’s paint cracked and chipped, its roof struggling to stay adjoined. She slowly opened the door, hoping with all her heart her parents wouldn’t be home. When she entered the dark living room, she recognised her mother’s handbag sitting on the wooden table, its contents scattered over the kitchen floor. Her mother was home. She walked into the kitchen cautiously, as she heard the kettle boil.

“Hello sweet heart”. Her mother had definitely had a joint or two. Her eyes were blood shot red and she was giggling uncontrollably like a four year old girl.

“Hi mum”. Lee wanted to keep conversation to a minimum, like she usually did when her mother was in this state.

“How was your day? Have fun at school learning?” she laughed wildly, stumbling to get to the kitchen counter to pour herself a cup of instant coffee.

“It was okay”. Short and sweet, lee constantly repeated in her head.

“Okay? I don’t pay for okay. I pay for you to learn, I pay for you to have fun! I pay.. I pay a..alot of money for you Lee!” Now she was entering hysteria, wailing, waving her hands around, and looking alarmingly shaken up.

“I know mum, I’m sorry”. Lee just wanted to shut her mother up, and the easiest way to do that was telling her that she was right.

It was silent for a moment. Lee’s mother looked momentarily puzzled, almost calm.

“For what darls?” her mum asked gently. She had obviously had more than a few joints and her short term memory was affected, which was nothing new.

“Nothing mum” Lee turned around to escape to her haven; her room.

Lee’s room was nothing spectacular. It consisted of four beige walls and a small window. She tried to keep it as tidy as possible, but it was difficult with her mum and dad occasionally passing out on her bed, because it’s the closest to the front door. Although she was far from living a luxurious life, her room was the most sacred place in the world to her. It was the only place where she could withdraw from reality; slip into the silence and company of nothingness. Lee threw herself onto her unmade bed, choosing to overlook the ashes that had been dropped on her creased cream sheets.

Lee began to sink into her worn single bed, letting out any excess energy left in her petite body. She closed her eyes and effortlessly fell asleep. Lee loved sleeping. Once she became possessed by unconsciousness, it meant she wouldn’t have to answer to anyone, see anything, hear anything, smell anything.

Suddenly, Lee was woken by the slam of a door. She cursed at the thought of waking up so abruptly, even though she was used to it. She heard her father shouting and her mother screeching. Plates smashed and there was a large thump on the linoleum kitchen floor. Lee ran to the living room to see her mother on the floor and her father standing over her, his face expressing such rage. His thick, masculine hand held a large bottle of scotch, the other in close proximity to Lee’s mother’s face. Lee had seen a lot; her mother drunk, her mother high, her mother low, her father drunk, her father high, her father low, but the worst of all was when they fought, and the very worst of all was when it got physical. Her parents hadn’t seen her walk in. She quickly ran back to her room, packing her bag with her necessities. As she ran in the corridor, she could hear her mother wail, screech and cry, begging her father to stop. Lee could hear her father shout, his intimidating voice even shaking her. She packed as quickly as possible, gathering all the things she’d need for the next few days.

Lee carefully escaped via the back door. She ran before anyone noticed that she was gone, although she doubted anyone would. If she did get caught, she’d get worse off than what her mother would get. One time, Lee’s parents were fighting and as she went to leave, her father grabbed her by the wrist and “dealt” with her, as he’d say. She had bruises all over her fragile infant body the next day. Lee learnt her lesson; she’d never go through the front door ever again.

Once Lee got around the block, It was alright to start walking for the bus stop. It was getting rather late so she’d have to stay in crowds on the way into the CBD.

The bus was empty bar a few late night workers and high school students. They were all getting ready to go home to their loving and lovable families. Lee pressed the stop button as the bus approached town hall. She grabbed her school bag and sleeping bag, contemplating whether she’d sleep outside Westfields or the QVB tonight.

It was almost nine and the city was bustling. Lee decided on sleeping behind the QVB because Pitt Street Westfields was always over populated and loud. She found an unoccupied section of pavement and set out her sleeping bag. Home sweet home.