Monthly Archives: September 2010

My Little Sister

This was originally saved as “klkihlhiyukg.txt” because there didn’t seem to be an appropriate name for it. Then I edited it heavily. Possibly suitable for public consumption now. Thoughts?

Dad had been the one to find the body. It was unexpected – he had gone upstairs to wake her up, thinking she had slept in. It was time for school, and all that.
I don’t think he knew what to do, who to call. It’s not like having a bike stolen.
There was no point calling an ambulance, either.
She’d done it in the middle of the night.
My little sister had been cold for hours before we found her.
And that was my wednesday morning. I had to call mum, because dad was talking to the police. I had to explain that she needed to come home, not at the end of her business trip, but now. Mum and dad hadn’t been talking for a long time, at that point.
They didn’t fix that, after my little sister was cold, either.
I had shut my eyes when the body was carried through on a stretcher, covered in a white plastic sheet.
There was a note, penned by my little sister.
It read, in my little sister’s neatest italics, “Mum, Dad, Ivan.”
I didn’t want to ruin this last memento of my little sister.
“Hi you.” It read. My little sister had written that.
“It’s not you, it’s me.” It read. My little sister always had a wicked sense of humour.
“I love you.” It read. My little sister loved me.
My little sister was dead.



Filed under Uncategorized

Look But Don’t Touch

Took the post down to enter the competition, and now it’s back up.

“You bitch.” I smile tentatively, my blue eyes tinged with fear as I stare at you.
You raise an eyebrow. I’m not funny anymore, not an entertainment to you. But I’ve ingested too many knock off alcopops to care. You think I’m a lightweight, and you tell me so.
I laugh.
“It’s not funny.” You say, serious now as you run a thumb along my jawline. I always flinch when you do that, but you haven’t worked out why. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”
I struggle to suppress a nervous titter as I move back from your hand.
“You can look but don’t touch.” I smile weakly.
Your eyes narrow. “But you love it when I touch you.” and you drop the word touch like an icy tombstone.
I bite my lip, stained blue from the cheap drinks.
“That’s what you think.” I say, eyes wide, in a feat of bravery you haven’t encountered in months.
You start to laugh. “No, I know it,” you say, and your arms curl around my waist, holding me to you. I’m shaking inside, but I don’t let on. No amount of alcohol ever prepares me for this inevitable moment.
“I love you.” You lie to me at whisper volume.
My voice has dropped and it’s shaking, as I lean up to whisper into your ear, “I love you too.”
Because being here with you, terrified, is better than being without.


Filed under Uncategorized