Prologue

14.5K 185 40
                                    

I used to wake up every morning scared. From when I was three until I was thirteen, I always woke up scared. Scared about what I might see if I walked out my room. Scared about who I might find sleeping on the couch. And scared about why this was all happening. Was I the problem? Was it always my fault? I knew, in my head, that it wasn't, but, as we all know, for a little girl, we all believe that it is our fault. We believe that anything can be blamed on us.

I grew up in Australia, specifically the countryside. Forbes was where I called home for my first thirteen years. It was a small town near Orange, in country New South Wales, and a few hours drive from Sydney. It was quiet, it was small, and it was home. It was all I ever knew. It was all I ever wanted to know, at first.

I had four other siblings, all of which were older than me - Bindi, Darcy, Eden, and Finn. Bindi and Darcy were twins, 10 years older than myself. I never saw much of them. By the time I was eight, they had already moved to Sydney, studying at University, wanting to, most likely, get out of Forbes as soon as they could. Wanting to get out of our house, as well. They were both incredibly smart too, most likely going off to become doctors, or lawyers, or something in between.

Eden left soon after as well. She went to boarding school in Armidale, and I never saw her thereafter. She fell off the radar, in a sense. She, from what I heard, got into a bad crowd. No one, not even Mum, had heard from her since she was 18. I am not sure whether she was alive or dead, which can never be a good sign.

Finn, on the other hand, stayed with me. He was a year older than I was, and we vowed to each other that we would never leave the other. It would be him and me. I would never go anywhere if he wasn't.

"It's you and me, Tippy," Finn said to me, as we hid in the wardrobe together. We were only nine and 10, but all we could hear was glasses smashing, and feet stomping. "We stay together, okay?"

"Okay," I replied. I leant into my big brother, and he covered my ears, trying to shield me from the pain. Of the anger.

It was me and him. Tippah and Finn, for as long as I could remember.

Through all our collective pain, the only thing Finn and I loved more than each other was soccer. It was the only time of the week where we were away from the troubles brewing at our small farm on the outskirts of Forbes. Mum would drive us, there and back, probably happy to be away from the plot of land, and from who resided in it.

I remember first seeing her when I was nine, and she was eight. I was ripping up the midfield, weaving the ball through the players feet, and looking up, in the box, being faced with a small, but mighty, eight-year-old. I tried switching feet, but instead, she took the ball off of me. I turned around to Mum, who was standing behind the goal.

"MUMMY!" I said, nearly in tears. I had never had any player beat me before. I was always the best, in our small local competition.

"Tippah! Keep going!" Mum exclaimed, trying to get me back into it.

I turned around, ready to storm up to that blonde girl, ready to take the ball from her feet. As I did, she beat me once more, passing the ball. But that wasn't before I clipped her feet, bringing her down to the ground.

I knew I didn't mean to do that and I was scared of what damage I might've possibly caused, but as I looked at her, she only smiled.

"Good tackle," she said, smiling at me.

"Sorry," I replied. She stood up, before I did, and continued the game. I watched her, so mesmerised by the younger opponent. I was in awe, and as an eight-year-old, that was not normal for me.

After the match, I went up to her, wanting to find out who she was and where she had come from.

"Hey, um," I started to say, before she spoke.

right where you left meWhere stories live. Discover now