Chapter 2:

Flashback: Orphaned


I remember the day my life began to fall apart—just five years old. I found my parents dead in our house. She was ten years older than me so she was always looking after me. She would be the one to meet me at school whilst Mum has a bath.

Kathleen went to Anita's house and I carried on walking to our house. It was only a few a doors away. I knocked, like I always did and waited.

No response. I knocked again and opened the letterbox. "Hello? Mum? Dad? Are you there?" I ran to Anita's house and Kathleen came shooting out the door.

"Bobby!" Kathleen shouted. "why aren't you home?"

"There's nobody at the door."

"That can't be true."

"I've been knocking and ringing the bell but nobody's answering."

Kathleen tapped her pocket causing the keys to shake. "I'll let you in."

She came with me. She had always been a great big sister. Even though I was the worst little brother you could imagine. She must have assumed that I was playing a prank.

Only I wasn't. I wish I was. When Kathleen opened the door for me, neither of us expected to see our father slumped on the floor covered in chocolate and spilt wine.

We ran upstairs to fetch mum. It was four o'clock. She was always in the bath. She was face down in the bath. It was too late to save her. I thought everything was going in a mad rush. By the time the police and undertakers had gone, it was midnight.

They did a post-mortem on our parents. Mum had an epileptic fit in the bath. We had no idea she had epilepsy. As for our Dad, he went into a diabetic coma triggered by the chocolate he ate. They had died at lunchtime, while we were still at school.

Ever since then Kathleen became in charge of the house. The house technically belonged to my Grandpa until Kathleen was legally an adult. But he didn't come that much. He would come when he could, but he was often too busy taking care of Grandma.

It came to the point where Grandma was needing care around the clock. Luckily, Kathleen did a good job taking care of me.

I was close to my mother, she was beautiful. I didn't see my dad very much, but I will never forget the bedtime stories at the weekend. I might be thirty-one now, but the memories still haunt me. They linger in the corner of my mind and hit me in the middle of the night. All the wonderful things I had as a child were now gone. I wish I could have appreciated them more.