one day – in the future, sometime –they will be happy again because I don’t remember them ever being happy, really happy. Maybe that’s because of how they were raised, with no siblings or fun stuff to do all day, unlike me. I need to make my bed; perhaps Mummy and Daddy are angry with me for not making it this morning. I know this would cheer them up, but I am not sure why – it is such a small thing. Is it because I promised I would try to do it all by myself ? I put my furry pink cushions at the head of my bed and stop to take a rest. I feel tired. I get so little time to myself, normally. I hear the voices of my brothers as they encourage me to play their game instead. I try to carry on – I need to finish making my bed – but they won’t leave me alone. I stay on my bed, not joining in. I need to be good; I need to do what I promised Mummy. Slowly, I try to think. Surely I can still be good and play with my brothers? I think I might play with them, but only for a bit. Surely Mummy won’t mind? Just this once? I listen to their voices – in secret – and their game. Daddy enters the room. His arms reach out; he tries to grab me… to hold me… to stop me…. I think of the bears, not the furry ones, but the big ones at the zoo. * As I wake up, something feels very wrong. I look around and realise that this isn’t my bed; this isn’t my bedroom.There are no furry pink cushions here. I am quickly hugged with the words, ‘It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault.’ Mummy then kisses me on the cheek before leaving the room. My head feels strange and jumbled up and a strange man – not Daddy – promises that I will feel better so I just listen and wait and try to be quiet. I always try to be good. I want Mummy –
17 20
Made with FlippingBook - Online magazine maker