Emma's Six

February 1997

February 1997- Emma is three years old.

Trigger warnings: child abuse (Lavinia hitting Emma)

I'm not sure what I should do now.

I am sitting in the bay window and look out into the garden. Lavinia, Mum and Mummy taught me for over a year now. I had no contact with anyone my age in over a year.

Have I done something wrong to deserve this? To have lessons on my own, only interacting with my family on a day-to-day basis. Every day is the same, and I am sick of it.

I was bullied at nursery before, not by the children. The teachers abused me, told me to suck it up when things weren't going my way. They wouldn't include me in group activities; every time I had a question, they refused to answer. I had to wait until I went home to ask my parents what I wanted to know.

I want to have friends, to have a childhood that I will never get if I stay here. Normal children get to have friends, go to nursery, enjoy their childhoods. Now that I stay at home, it feels like my family ignores me.

It happened the other day. I asked my parents if they could spend some time with me. 'We will, Emma,' Mummy promised, brushing her fringe out of her eyes. 'Give us five minutes; then we'll be there.'
'Okay,' I skipped into the living room and settled down on my bean bag. While I was waiting, I brought out the toys I wanted to play with and kept an eye on the clock. Five minutes came and went. I thought that either they lost track of time, or the task they were doing was taking longer than they thought. Five more minutes, I decided. If they do not come through, I will go to find them.

Ten minutes passed. Neither Mum nor Mummy arrived. I went into the study to find Lavinia in there with them. 'Mum? Mummy?'
'Sarah Jane and Ruby are busy,' Lavinia said.
'But we said we'd play. I waited ten minutes when they said they'd finish in five.'
'We have time to play now,' Mum smiled.
'But we still need to talk about what you two are going to do next. We can't keep tutoring Emma forever. We can get private tutors in for her so she can learn at her own pace.' I felt my shoulders slump in defeat. Of course, Lavinia would spend as much time with Mum and Mummy as possible. I turned and walked out of the room. When I reached my room, I grabbed a biography of the Six Wives of Henry VIII, curled up on my bed and started crying. Neither my mums nor Lavinia checked up on me.

'Mum, Mummy, Lavinia,' I say when I go into the kitchen.
'Not now, Emma, your parents are busy,' Lavinia says and resumes her conversation with my parents. 'About that-'
'But this is about my education.'
'You can tell us later, pet.' Lavinia turns back to my parents. 'You two will need to get jobs at some point. I will stay here and look after Emma.' Lavinia, looking after me?! No thanks. No way will happen.

I need to do something drastic to stop it from happening. What can I do to get their attention? I smile when I come up with an idea. 'I want a say in my education since it will impact my future.'
'Sounds interesting, darling,' Lavinia says. I take a deep breath. It's now or never.

'I want to go back to nursery.'
'Yeah, I know.'
'You... do?'
'We need to focus on Emma's education.' She didn't hear me. 'Staying at home is the best thing for her.'
'SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO ME!' I scream. Everyone turns to me. Lavinia's eyebrows crease in anger. Mum and Mummy look shocked. 'I want to go back to nursery. Not the one I was going to; a new one.'
'It is far too risky,' Lavinia says.
'You said it would be too risky when I'm older. I want to have a normal childhood, please.'
'You know that you can't have that. You are not fully human; we have to keep you safe.'
'But-'
'The answer is no, Emma. It will always be no.' I storm out of the kitchen.

So, what if I lost the fight? I will win the war; I'll make sure of it. But first, I need a plan. What can work?

There are some things I haven't tried yet, and maybe one will work. One of them must work. I will not throw a tantrum, that will get me nowhere. I need a better plan than that. What else can work? I need to think of something crafty; but if I can think of it, the adults might prepare for it. But they won't prepare for a surprise attack. I smile and begin getting to work, blocking my bedroom door with a chair. I can't have anyone getting in and stopping me. My parents knock on my door several times; Lavinia doesn't check on me.