This is for Kay, she gave me my starting phrase “I never did find out why…”
I never did find out why she left. Big sisters are a different species. She had a different set of rules. I can’t eat in the living room but she can. I have to keep to my side of the room but she can cross the dressing gown belt barrier. So when she left, I just guess it was something she could do. I wasn’t allowed to leave dad’s sight. She could. It all came down to age.
“Eight years isn’t a lot.” I would tell her.
“It is” she said. “When you’re eight, I’ll be twice you. I’ll be two times better than you. I’ll be eight times better than you. I’m infinity times better than you. Times nothing by infinity and you get nothing, and you’re nothing.”
That’s how most of our arguments ended. I know I shouldn’t shout for dad. She says it makes me weak. A daddy’s girl. Of course I can’t do all the things she does, I’m weak and little and always cry for dad. At least I don’t call daddy anymore. I stopped when I was six.
I’m 16 now. I’m twice what I was when she left. The same ages as when she left. The rules were different when she was 16. I have to account for my every movement. I bet she didn’t have to. Dad says it’s different now. Different, different, always different. I hate different. I’m told I’m different and difficult and short tempered and impatient and rude. I’m different and I’m not a pleasant young lady.
When I get in trouble, I just shrug my shoulders and call it genetics. I’m the worst bit of my parents. My dad’s short tempered and his whole family have double chins. My mum was impatient and had a massive arse. That’s what caused the accident. Her impatience not her massive arse. She was in a hurry; speed, ice, over and over and over and over. Four times. Not a chance. Not a hope in hell. Pronounced on arrival.