Authors note: okay i copied this story down from a written version but i changes the name of one of the charcaters. I've been through it and can't find anymore wrong name's but just incase i missed one or ten..... million.......if you see the name Emma anywhere the it's supposed to be the name Kayleigh, i've just missed it when i went through and changed the names. That may be confusing and might put you off my story now but hey... it'll be more of a challenge to understand.Ok whatev, just RR please.


Sisterly Love

As a young girl I was lively, boisterous and, according to my Mum, very annoying. Time has made a drastic change to me in appearance and character. Because of this change, when thinking of my past self I always see a completely different person and so write in this way: as if in the past I were a different person. I believe that my change in appearance from short skinny and blond to tall (-ish), overweight and brown-headed is one of my disadvantages of growing up, and is one of the reasons why I do think of my past self as a different person. A question I have asked myself many times is; what caused me to grow up? Many of those who read this will conclude that my level of intelligence is considerably low if I cannot find the answer to this question. I don't mean physically, I mean in your mind. Learning at school is a large part of this but not all of it; there are events in your life, memorable occurrences through which you discover new feelings or major life changes and which, in turn, slightly mature you:

Like many young children nowadays, Angie had siblings. Non- identical baby twin- sisters. And as is the way of people, she was pushed aside as strangers to her scrambled to see ' the cute wee mites with their mother's eyes'. Jealousy took over. As a child of only five years she misunderstood when a wondrous amount of gifts arrived… for the twins. Her parents tried to change her frame of mind to the new family members by spending their little free time with her and buying her small gifts. It was a wasted effort. In her mind, the names Gillian and Stacey now stood away from other normal names in a place of deep dislike, in place of sisterly love there grew a shallow hate, which carried through for four years until one day when her true feelings surfaced.

At nine years of age she lived in a small street in Oxford and made many friends although unusually they were all boys. Most of the other females in her street were either mothers or were so young that they were not able to speak. So when she met her first female friend she was ecstatic. Eleven-year-old Kayleigh was very outspoken and boastful… she was also in high school; Angie was immediately dubbed 'cool'. But she never really knew Kayleigh.

Behind the local shops was a green fence framing the park, through that park ran a fast flowing river over which stood a mucky white bridge. Horizontal bars separated the bridge from the open air above the river but were still not placed close enough to stop numerous amounts of children from climbing through. In the middle of the river below was a half submerged solidly rooted chunk of white rock: the aim of many children's dares. The ever- popular game dubbed 'dares' by children was a game that they could not get through without daring someone to try to jump from the bridge to the rock. Of course no one ever achieved this or really tried, too afraid of what might happen should they miss. Kayleigh, as boastful as she was, was constantly stating that she had made the jump several times before and could do so again if she wished to. She never actually showed anyone though, and mysteriously when she said that she had performed the deed, there were no people around to see her and give evidence, so the children of the street discarded her and it soon became a well-known fact that anything Kayleigh said was not true. Even Angie believed this, for Kayleigh had never shown her either. Kayleigh and Angie stayed friends for a short while, plating together and taking the Brats- a newly given name for the twins, courtesy of Angie herself, - to the park on the orders of Mum. On one of these days when the sun hung high in the sky beating down on the faces of the four children, Angie caught Kayleigh eyeing the twins with their harnesses on, designed so they couldn't run away when their guardians weren't looking. As they reached the bridge Kayleigh stopped Angie and finally told her what was on her mind: "I've got a great idea. I've been looking at the harnesses and they're strong enough to hold." As she spoke she was prying the handles of the harnesses fromm Angie's hands, "We could swing them to the rock and then—"

"No!" Angie's voice burst from her as alarm rose in her small chest.

"No, listen." They would be the youngest ever to get to the rock; they'd be really brave then. Anyway I though you didn't care about them, you hate them so why not?" She was dragging them away from Angie and try as she might they couldn't get back to her, restrained by the harnesses which Kayleigh held. As their tiny hands clasped thin air and their cries grew louder a strange tug occurred in Angie's chest causing her to stop and frown for a moment, "Because," Angie fumbled for an excuse, "We've got to go home now."

"No," she looked at her watch, "your Mum said two- thirty, look, its only one fifty-five." She flashed Angie her watch from her position by the bars. Angie glared at it willing it to show her the time she wanted, either that or blow up. It did neither.

"We won't be able to get them back!" Angie told Kayleigh.

"Yes we will, I can jump over there remember."

Angie though of the conclusion that she had come to on this subject before and decided she was sticking to it, ""No you can't!" With Angie's last statement she saw defiance flare in Kayleigh's eyes.

"Yes I can! Look!" She began to life both twins off the ground together.

"No stop!" Angie grabbed Kayleigh's arm.

"No!" She shrieked. A desperation filled Angie and the tugs in her chest became more violent and painful, the it hit her. She loved her sisters. Why? She thought, after all I've put up with from them, why do I love them now? A cry pulled her from her sudden thoughts. Kayleigh was carrying out her plans despite the objections surrounding her in the different forms of both the twins and Angie. Angie seized a handful of Kayleigh's thick black hair and wrenched it as hard as she could backwards. Kayleigh screamed, walking backwards as she tried to lessen the pain to her scalp, tears welling up in her large grey eyes. Finally she dropped the twins onto the solid rock floor of the bridge, her hands flew up to grasp Angie's wrists where bloody half moon marks appeared as she dug her nails into Angie's flesh. Angie hissed and pulled back her hands releasing Kayleigh's hair. Kayleigh turned as Angie was still off-balance and shoved viciously, pain exploded in the younger girls head as it struck the hard white stone. Understand though, that a nine-year-old versus an eleven-year-old, is not a fair fight. Angie climbed to her feet clutching the back of her head. She looked at Kayleigh who glared back from her retreat position near the twins, then looked at her younger sisters. They were clutching each other letting out a high wail as they watched. She turned to run. Kayleigh sprang forward and grabbed Angie's arm pointing to the twins but before she could say anything a foot collided with her leg and the arm was wrenched from her grip. She shouted something to the girl sprinting to the gate, but Angie was deaf to the world, too ashamed at what she had done: left two four-year-old children alone with her.

I remember Kayleigh chased me dragging my sisters as old people and other adults sat on benches watched. I remember panicking thinking it would take too long to run all the way home and fetch Mum. Imagine my relief as I bolted out of the park to find her striding purposefully across the street heading back home from the local shop, a white carrier bag in her hand. The rest was a bit of a blur, I remember trying to force my story out through the tears and then an expression of mixed rage and concern blasting through my Mum's features. That was the only time I ever saw her look that way. She thrust the bag into my arms and then did a weird kind of half-run-trot, which looked very unusual on a woman of her age and build. As she reached the gate I remember hearing a loud snap as she yanked it open, I thought she had ripped it off its hinges. There was about a minute's silence and then she strode back through the open gate, a toddler under each arm. I remember asking what had happened, what she had said to Kayleigh. Her only reply was; "You're not to play with that girl again!" She sounded clipped and terse so I decided not to pester.

I asked my Mum some days after the incident if she had been and if she still was angry with me. No. My new attitude towards my sisters meant that going through the experience was worth it, this she told me using simpler terms. I never saw Kayleigh again. Although at times I wish I hadn't stopped Kayleigh (especially recently) I'm glad I did and when any arguments start up between my sisters and I, I think of this story and somehow always seem to be able to renew the bonds of sisterly love.