Keeping Jemima

Why cant i be normal?

Matty

William left to go back to Australia, Jem was upset like she always was when he left and spent a few quiet days moping around. I found a letter he'd left on her bunk with a birthday present he'd left there for her, I couldn't resist peeking at the note folded on top and smiled to myself, 'I know your sad baby but I'm coming back, I miss you too, read the letter if your still feeling sad tomorrow, enjoy your birthday treat and remember that you're stronger than you think, love you to moon Jemima, I'm always going to come back to you x' he really was a sweet guy, I just hoped he was going to be able to cope with dating my complex little sister and it didn't end badly.

I'd noticed Jem had asked about dad a few times, I wondered what she was thinking in her head, I always wondered what went on in that troubled mind of hers. personally I was happy never to see the moron again, sure I missed him in a weird warped way when he left with little warning but I got over it quickly, Jem would always ask when he was coming back, maybe Jem needed some closure of some kind. She was only four when he left, she didn't remember half the shit he'd done to us and part of me wanted to keep it that way to save her from any more trauma. I decided to try and get in contact with him, tell him about Jem, see what he had to say at least. I was surprised he hadn't tried to reach out or contact me after Steve's arrest had been on the news and all over the papers, or maybe I wasn't surprised at all, he hadn't bothered to even try and get custody of her after mum died. I wasn't going to tell her I was trying to contact him in case the outcome was bad or he just plainly didn't want to know, I'm not sure she'd handle the rejection.

He'd always had a disliking for my little sister, from the time my mum was pregnant with her he had an attitude problem, I was so excited when my mum told me I was going to be a big brother, I couldn't wait, excited three year old Matty popped into my mind often. The boys all said they couldn't ever Remember being so young, but me, I could remember most things vividly from when I was two years old onward, Maybe because it haunted my dreams still, maybe because I'd clung to any memories that my missing sister were in. I remember my mum waddling around the house and my dads annoyance laced on his alcohol scented breath telling her if she didn't shut up he'd get rid of the little bastard himself. I recalled the word abortion being yelled nightly for months until my mum became too round to hide, I remember the day at school when the topic of abortion came up and the penny finally dropped that he'd wanted mum to get rid of Jem. My blood boiled that day in sex Ed, I flipped a table. Got suspended for two days.

I remember the day they first bought her home, I was besotted with the small bundle. Proud four year old Matty paraded around with his little sister, pushing her pram, showing anyone and everyone my new sister. I'd found dad one day sat just staring at Jem, she was a week old, she was in a bouncy chair thing that I loved to sit and watch ninja turtles and mindlessly bounce her in. My dad just sat there, whiskey bottle in hand, staring at my crying sibling I remember vividly him suddenly screaming what the fuck do you want you little bastard. That day, that day was the first day I'd felt pure fear, maybe that's why I remembered it so vividly. I'd been scared of my drunk dad, the endless arguments, the flying fists but that day that was day I was petrified of my own father and what he would do to my baby sister or me if I dared to try and stop him. He threw his whiskey across the room and picked her up roughly staring at her face, "stop fucking crying" he growled in her face, he clocked me watching him and he softened a little telling me it was alright and daddy was just tired. By the time Jem was a month old, I'd learnt how to change a nappy, prepare a bottle, feed and change her and I did most of it by myself, it was me and her, from the beginning always me and her. I'd drag her car seat to my room, bumping it up the stairs and lock us in and feed her while they slugged it out downstairs.

four years old, looking back my heart felt sad for four year old me, my mum would tell me "you do a great job, you're the best big brother there ever was my little soldier but we mustn't tell anyone that you help mummy or they will take your little Jem away from us, you don't want that do you." Right from the start she was my little Jem, I was manipulated into keeping my mouth shut, not even my grandparents knew although I think they suspected when they saw how well a four year old could change, feed and burp a baby on instinct without being asked when we visited their house, my mum would tell them "he likes doing it so just leave him be. He's a strange boy but I love him."