Reflections: Finding Myself

1. A Little About Me

My name is Rein. I am now 18 years old. This story is far older so don't think I'm acting childish even though I probably am very much so. I love the colour violet. I simply adore Lilly's. I love the smell of new books and the rush I get from getting things right. I enjoyed eating food, especially starchy food and rich creamy desserts (ah the irony). I can't understand why people would not want to eat when there are people dying to have a slice of bread on their plates once a day. I love the rain because of the way it feels – like a clean slate. Welcome to the beginning.

I am a perfectly normal, average girl with an over average determination and unpredictable, fluctuating rate of success. When I say normal I mean that I have no chronic diseases or physical deterrents. I once diagnosed myself as bipolar (and once or twice with depression) but that doesn't count because it's self-observation, which means little to the world I was born into. I also have an over average level of sensitivity. So the beggar on the street, the girl with one arm, and the friend that you can't help no matter how many times you see them hurting, that moment when you try so hard but the obstacle doesn't budge – I feel them deeply and it usually shows on my face.

My parents are the usual kind of average wage earning citizens. My mother is a housewife and she's brilliant at everything, usually using her perfectionist attitude towards every task she approaches and coupling it with her desire to always see immediate results. I think it's for that second part that she enjoys cooking and baking the most. Like every mother, she's easy to smile and easy to irritate, depending on what you did of course. My dad is more easy going and slightly childish. He does have his moments, however, when he gets really annoyed with us for not doing certain things. Usually, when he's in this mood, he won't really listen to us, even if we're making complete sense. He's also sometimes very insistent to the point where h's unnecessarily stubborn – mostly for matters that aren't that big a deal.

I think the worst part about my mother is that she was the first born child. She had to do everything for herself and her two younger sisters. She married my dad when she was 20 years old. Of course by then she was redy to get married. She had been doing everything for her siblings, from school lunch to brushing their hair and ironing their uniforms. Then she'd come home and clean the house and help/make supper (I could never really tell which), clean up after supper and do her homework in between. I'm the first born daughter. You can see where that's headed.

I have four very different siblings: an older brother, an older sister, a younger sister and a younger brother. They each entered and influenced my life very differently. The reason I put it this way is that two of them don't really exist.

Maybe I should get this out of the way. You hardly ever see my first brother. What can I say? He's a boy and I don't really keep track of him because I know that my mum is keeping a close eye and he doesn't generally bother me. He likes to spend time playing video games. Typical boy stuff.

The first real intro is my non-existent, physically identical older twin sister. She is everything that I wanted to be. She looks exactly like me except for the blacker tinge to her dark brown hair her and her much fitter body. Yep, thick brown hair, spice brown eyes, 1.62m tall, size 5 feet, petite frame and slightly big eyes with a toned body. She's very athletic and highly unselfish. She's brilliant without trying and perfectly balances everything in her life without losing one wink of a 7 hour sleep. She's an impossibility.

My younger sister is my closest friend and my polar opposite. She's hard to understand but a real marshmallow when she's in a good mood. In a bad mood, she's a hurricane. A tom-boy, over-talkative social butterfly – we butt heads with a bang but love each other all the more strongly (though the line between us is sometimes as visible the line between meeting oceans. I would take her place in every trouble if only I could.

My last brother is the youngest and lives in a room deep in my head. He's everything a child should be and doesn't age. He's been 6 for the past 3 years. He's a sweet, loving, innocent, puppy eyed cutie pie. Looks more or less similar to my younger sister (no I won't tell you creepy people what she looks like - :D ). He never does anything wrong and is too ignorant to understand the world – what'd you expect, he's six. He's the embodiment of innocence.

So average home, average education, average folks. That's all you need to know about me, for now. My imaginary siblings aren't going to feature here, their just around to help me cope with life and maybe edit the story a bit. You'll get to know me better later, if you stick around.

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Slightly edited