Grandparents are your true companion. They are always eager to talk to you, listen to you and play with you.
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I was sitting on my bed, hugging a pink pillow. I just could not take it any more. I could hear them shout and scream at each other, "IT WAS YOUR BLOODY FAULT!" I heard vases shattering on the floor. I heard someone shout, "I HATE YOU! I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOUR FACE." I heard doors slamming shut.
Tears started to stream down my cheeks. "Please stop," I whispered between my sobs. I hugged my knees and kept rocking back and forth. "Please just stop all of you! It was none of our fault. What happened that night was under no one's control." If only they understood. My mouth tasted of my salty tears. My face felt warm while my teddy, who I was clutching was drenched in tears.
Why couldn't any of them understand that what happened that night was nobody's fault? It was out of our control. I was crying into the fur of my teddy, crying over the broken pieces of my family.
When I was nine years old, I was in a very similar position. In my room, laying on my bed in a fetal position, hugging my teddy. Even that time I was crying on my teddy's lap. The only thing that changed in those thirteen year was that at that time I had someone to comfort me. Now no one bothered to care.
Thirteen years ago
"EVELLYN JONES! ANSWER ME RIGHT NOW," my mum screamed. "Why did you hit your sister?" I could see that she was desperately trying to control her anger. While she was staring at me, she was soothing my crying sister.
"She was pulling my hair and hurting me, so I...." I croaked and I started to shiver. Tears started pooling in my eyes. She looked very intimidating and I was scared. "So you hit your sister? you should have understood better, your sister is just three years old," her voice was reprimanding. It made me withdraw more. Her gaze did not soften.
"I'm..I'm sorry," I said between hiccups and soon bursted into tears. Immediately her gaze softened and she extended her hand, I think, to comfort me. However, I did not wait for her, I bolted for the comfort of my room and teddy.
I slammed the door open and lunged onto my bed. I was embraced by the comforting soft furs of my teddy bear, Cuddles. I was weeping continuously, even the furs were soggy with tears.
Hours went by and no one came to say sorry or comfort. 'They only love Beth, not me. Mommy does not love," I thought to myself and then another round of sobs erupted. That was when I heard the doors squeaking open. It was my grandparents.
"May we come in?" they asked me, I just croaked a yes. They sat beside, one side my grandpa and on the other my grandma. I lifted my head from Cuddle's lap and hugged my grandma.
"Mom....mommy doesn't love me, she only loves Beth. Mommy doesn't care about me," I said between hiccups and bursted into another round of tears. "Oh my poor baby, your mother loves you a lot," said my grandma, I felt her hand caressing my back. It felt nice and my sobs had been reduced to hiccups.
"Then why did mommy scold me? why didn't she say sorry to me," I asked, I was staring at my grandma waiting for an explanation. "She scolded you because you hit your sister. She didn't come because may be she felt bad and did not know how to say sorry," they explained. It was a poor explanation, but I was ready to accept it, I did not like staying angry on mommy.
"Beth hit me first!" I exclaimed correcting my grandma.
"Oh Sweetie! it really does not matter anymore. What matters is that you forgive your mother. She felt really bad," said my grandma. I nodded, I did forgive her. I could not stay angry at my mother for long, in fact I couldn't stay angry at anyone for long.
YOU ARE READING
The Sister Song
Teen FictionOne night, one incident and one broken family. What happens when fate plays its cruel game and once a happy family falls apart? things are left unsaid and feelings unexpressed. All that is left are tears, strings of hateful words and broken people...