in the beginning - myla

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"i don't want to go", i screamed at my dad at aged six, i can't believe they were trying to make me go to school when they had adopted me only two months prior, i can't believe they thought i would leave my baby sister alone with them

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"i don't want to go", i screamed at my dad at aged six, i can't believe they were trying to make me go to school when they had adopted me only two months prior, i can't believe they thought i would leave my baby sister alone with them. she was barely even one, and even i barely even knew them, how was i to trust these people with isla after a mere two months.

i went to school that day, kicking and screaming. my mum had to pull me out the car using all her might, you would think a six year old would be easy enough to get out of a car, you'd be wrong. funnily enough, that day was the second best day of my life, it pretty much went downhill from there.

i met the people that would soon be my best friends, and started my education in the building that would lead me to who i was and where i would be soon enough. i was only six, but somehow i knew that this time, this was my forever home, even if forever wasn't that long.

the best day of my life was when i met red cooke, the most amazing person anyone could ever meet, with the most amazing stories anyone could ever tell. i met red when we were both 10, he didn't talk much, he said everything you needed to know with his eyes. oh my god his eyes, the most chocolatey eyes. reds dad left two years before we met, he was a police officer so his stories, i can imagine, were amazing. by the time we were twelve, we were inseparable and of course when red told his dads stories to a doe eyed 12 year old me, they seemed much more enticing. you know, i say he didn't talk much, but once red got into a story he rambled until your ears bled. fittingly, his hair was that sacred colour, red. a beautiful red that shone in the brightest of sunlights and a red that went dark, everytime he facetimed me in the shower.

by the time i was 13 i was deeply in love. i'm not sure if you can be in love at 13, but myla was. the best thing about him was how he loved my little sister as much as he loved me, and her the same.

isla absolutely adored red, when she was only 3 she used to babble away to him like toddlers do, she would run about our minimalist, show home living room bumping into his bruised legs, giggling and him laughing back. it did my heart good.

isla and i have always been close sisters, sometimes me, mum and dad joke about what her first words will be, even though she's 10. trust me we've taken her to speech therapist after speech therapist, she simply refuses. it doesn't stop anyone from loving that child any less however.

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