User:Amazingpolyp

I've never really known my sister all that well. Even though we lived in the same house, shared a room, we rarely talked or saw one another all that much. She was always going out at the crack of dawn; no shoes, no hat or jumper and because of that I suppose one of my most enduring memories of childhood is the sound of the slow, ancient scrape of the back gate. Did I ever go with her? No, no I did not. To some people that may seem rather callous but then again they would have to understand our family to understand the way it was. Father and Mummy were fairly benign, with an almost narcotic halo around them which, I realize now, may have been quite literal. We were always closer to Father. He was the one thing that brought my sister and me together and I would sometimes think, in that dramatic yet oddly true way of children, that if Father had not been there then I would never have even known I had a sister.