You Can't Choose Your Family.

• Holly Smith, Grade 7
• Short Story
• 2012

I lie on my bed, crying. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. She never understands how I feel. And I never know when Dad is being silly and when he’s not. My little sister, oh, don’t get me started. She’ll look for any opportunity to be annoying, mean, you name it. You can’t choose your family, they say. I wish I could. I go to help Mum with the dishwasher and the washing up. Then about ten minutes later she’s yelling at us telling us that she doesn’t get enough help around the house. Dad starts making jokes one minute, and then he tells you to do something in the same tone as if he were joking, so you think he is, so you start to laugh. And then he gets mad at you. It’s so confusing! Charlotte, my sister, is like Mum and Dad put together. We could be having fun one moment, and the next thing she’s accidentally kicked herself, or realised that I am wearing her shirt, which, mostly, she has given me permission to wear. She gets mad at me, and I stay calm trying to tell her that, no, she was the one who kicked herself or that she had given me permission to wear her shirt, then she continues to go mad on me, and I lose my temper. I want to go yell at them all, leave and never come back.
But now, lying here on my bed, where the sun is softly filtering in through the windows, all I want to do is cry. The tears roll down my cheeks. I try to take in a long, calming breath, but it’s broken up by short gasps of air. I want to run away. I remember I tried to do that once. I tried to run away. It was a few years ago in the middle of winter. I packed a big bag and then wore half my clothes because they wouldn’t fit. I think I remember grabbing a loaf of bread and ten dollars, as if that would be enough. I snuck around the back of the house and got ready to run down the street, but I was too embarrassed that anyone should see me wearing half my closet. But then Mum caught me and gave me a big hug and took me into the laundry to unpack my getaway sack. She started pulling things out and then she came across something that made her laugh. In the middle of winter, on that cold day I had packed my wetsuit. Mum stared at it for a few seconds then totally burst out laughing saying, “A WETSUIT! HAHAHAHAHA” And then I stared to giggle and everything was OK again. Just the thought of it makes me smile. Maybe, I do need to do things around the house. More things than I am currently doing, anyway. Maybe I should be a little more kind to my mum, my wonderful mum who does everything for me. Maybe I should be a little more kind to Dad, too. I remember when Dad went overseas for a few days, for something to do with his work. When he came home, his new suit had been delivered so he got changed into it and came out to show it off to us, but it was not what any of us had expected. We called it the disco suit. It was so shiny I could see my face in it. Dad stared doing a little Michael Jackson performance for us and it was hilarious. We laughed about it for a very long time. I remember that I had not seen my Dad for three days when he came home that night. I was very happy to see him. And he went away for us, to earn a living that would keep us going. He earns the money that buys us food, clothes, holidays. Him and mum fork out thousands and thousands of dollars for Charlotte and My favourite activity, Irish dancing. Wigs, dresses, shoes, it’s worth a fortune. I remember Charlotte’s first dancing comp. She got up the stage with two other girls and began her dance. The other girls were being all dainty and sweet, and then along came Charlotte the pocket rocket zooming across the stage in big bounds and sharp movements. But her face was the most hilarious. She had her mouth hanging open, and her eyes were wide. It was really funny. I was so proud of her. Maybe I should be nicer to Charlo. I admit, she’s not the only culprit in this hurtful game that is sisterhood, I have contributed as well. Maybe I should be more aware of whether I might be hurting her feelings. Maybe I should apologise.
You know what, I’m going to do that right. Now. If they feel better, then I’ll feel better. I rush out of my room, my cheeks still tear-stained, and find them all sitting in the lounge room alongside our dog, Buddy, who has his head resting on Charlotte’s knee, sensing the sadness. They all smile at me and Buddy lifts his head. Mum open her arms a beckoning gesture, and I hug her tight. Charlotte hugs us too. Dad, on the other hand, yells, “GERONIMO!” and full on throws himself on top of us. Then buddy starts barking and jumping on us too and we all start laughing. I am happy now. I am laughing instead of crying and I am glad I have a loving Mother, a hard-working Father, an incredible sister, and a drop-dead gorgeous puppy. I will treasure them always, because you can’t choose your family.