Errr... I don't really know :s. I'm just sorta making it up as I go :)
I woke in a sweat, the same dream again. Of course it was. I’d been having the same dream for the past 8 years, every night over and over and over again. A single tear rolled down my cheek. I wiped it away contemptuously. I wasn’t going to cry for him.
I pulled the covers tighter around me- it was January, snowing outside and my windows were covered in frost, but still we didn’t have the heating on. Too poor. Could barely afford to put food on the table, never mind heat a whole flat.
I looked at my bedside clock, 6:40. I got up and got dressed, and then set out the task of dragging Alex, my four-year-old cousin out of bed. I’d always thought at his age kids were bouncing off the walls first thing in the morning, and that they were the ones to wake the rest of the house up. But not Alex.
”C’mon Alex, time to get up” I shouted
“No…” He groaned from under the covers, “Too cold,”
I bet it was, I could hear his teeth chattering from here.
“I know Alex, but soon we’ll get that new council flat, and then we’ll be able to afford heating, remember?”
“I don’t care” was his reply “I’m still cold now.”
I laughed slightly at this remark. It was true. Who cared when we got the new flat, we were cold now and that was all that mattered.
I sat on his bed and took him into my arms, holding him tight.
Eventually he warmed up enough to peel himself out of bed, and then I got him dressed and made him a sausage butty, his favourite.
I dropped him off at school and then made my way to college, I was going to be late again, but I didn’t care. I was going to fail no matter what. The only reason I kept going is because Auntie Jo made me, she wanted a better future for me, but I told her it didn’t matter, all I had to do was get married and then I could have anything.
I don’t mean I want to marry a footballer or a rich guy who'd have all the money, and I could just spend all day getting my nails done; God no, I hate girls like that. No, it was the clause my Dad set in his will. He’d taken great lengths to ensure that he would cause as much suffering as possible, even after he died. You see, my dad was rich, came from some super-rich family who owned half the world or something, sure enough he left everything to me in his will, but before I could even get a penny I’d have to marry. Which is why my Aunt Jenna has to work two jobs despite being eight months pregnant, and why my Uncle Sam works so hard I can’t even remember the last time I saw him.
I sometimes wondered if their lives would have been better if I hadn’t been dumped on them when I was eight, but I didn’t want to start thinking like that, and start feeling sorry for myself, that would do no one any good.