Pandora's Box

Chapter One

Dear Mother,

I've been in New York now for two weeks. Its just as great as the pictures we had seen and ten times better! The skyscrapers tower over the whole city and it hurts my neck if I stare up at them for too long. I know you'd laugh at me and say "well if it hurts, then don't do it!" but its just so different and magical to what I am used to. There is always noise here. Not the noise like we had to listen to. No wailing alarms, screaming children- and adults- swearing abuse at anyone who came too close. No constant police sirens, or terrible noises that I don't even want to describe coming from the other apartments. There's no horrible smells anymore either or graffitti covering the walls outside. Well not where Dads house is.

Of course, there is still noise, but it sounds much more cheery. I still hear people walking home late at night but they're always laughing and sound like they had been having a great time. There are still sirens but they sound from a lot further away. The streets are still full of children playing but you'd never hear the sort of language we heard at home come out of their mouths. It all seems so happy here. Like nothing bad ever happens. I know of course it does, but its nice to imagine I'm finally in a dream world where nothing horrid can get me

My room is amazing! I have a huge queen-sized bed with purple sheets, all the different shades of purple you could imagine, and a collection of pillows surrounded the top of it. Its so comfy as well, so don't worry its not just nice to look at, its practical too! Along one wall is a gigantic bookcase brimming with every genre of book in the world. I guess Dad must have known I liked books. Or maybe he remembered how much you loved books and thought I'd maybe be similar. The other wall has a door leading off it leading through a closet space, to a bathroom. The bathroom is rather simple but the bath in it is massive and I've already spent about 3 hours in it the other night. Other times I've just used the shower cause I was so tired. I am sleeping well though so don't worry!

The view from the window is incredible, you'd have loved to paint it. You can see all the way down to the river and beyond and I can see the statue of liberty if I look close enough! Its the sort of view you would have loved to paint, you could have put lots of details into the buildings and the colours of the sky would have amazed you. You would have been seated at the window for days, hardly eating and getting covered in paint, until you were completely satisfied by what you had produced. You would always ask me what I thought of it before you were completely finished. Like you were going to stop if I didn't like it. I always liked your paintings though and you never stopped something half way through, you had to complete it.

You never gave up. That was a big difference between us. You always tried to look on the bright side of life, you were always so positive, always so hopeful. If we had little food, you said we had more than others and should be grateful. If the roof leaked in, you always said we were lucky just to have the roof there. I was the opposite. A pessimist, I suppose. I didn't mean to always look on the bad side, but I guess nothing ever looked great to me. I felt like I had nothing to look forward too. You were ill and all that I knew was that at some point I was going to loose you. I had nothing that great to look back on either. Dad left when I was barely 1 year old, so I couldn't remember him. Gran had, had to go to a nursing home, out in the country, when I was three and we never had any spare cash to go visit her. The only good part of my life was you! And you were so ill...

I was jealous of you for a bit. When I felt really done I got mad at you. You had a great childhood, full of friends and a happy, together family. You could go out without worrying about a thing and enjoy yourself without feeling alone or guilty. Then I would feel ashamed of myself for even thinking like that for a second. You were trying your hardest for me. You had three different jobs during the week and a weekend job too. You did as much babysitting, dog sitting anything that anyone asked for just to get a little extra cash to surprise me. All while struggling with cancer.