Voicey here4/20/2023 They probably wouldn’t be back downstairs for some time… I could hear them cooing at her, their footsteps pacing in circles above. Mum and Dad were still comforting my sister. The TV began whirring and clunking until that loveable monster blinked onto the screen, his eyebrow cocked and grinning at me devilishly. The head of the VHS peered out from the video-player and gently I pushed it in. And so I found myself alone in the front room. She pecked me on the cheek and both of my parents disappeared upstairs. It was a high pitched screech like a car alarm, alerting everyone with ears that she needed something and immediately. When everyone had left, I asked Mum if we could watch the remainder of The Grinch together (seeing as we were so rudely interrupted) but Lucy must have heard us as she started howling again. They were always fussing over her: rushing to the nursery whenever she cried, gawking at the baby monitor whilst she slept. Mum and Dad also succumbed to Lucy’s manipulation. Things that I could do, too, but never received any praise for. (Yes cousin! I can count to eighteen now!) But Lucy was always doing something to steal them away again. (Tell her how good I draw, Grandma.) I showed my cousin all the presents I was still yet to open eighteen in total. I told my Auntie about my creative pursuits at Grandma’s house, how I had embellished her Yellow Pages with Christmas trees and stars. She couldn’t walk or talk yet, and when she wasn’t crying, milky white liquid spewed from her mouth and dribbled down her chin. And so well-behaved too! How lucky you are, Hannah, to have such a lovely sister. I didn’t feel lucky, and I couldn’t understand what they saw in her. They draped around her, kissing her flushed cheeks and stroking her naked head. The next morning our front door wouldn’t stop opening and closing as family arrived to visit us. When we got home, I asked to open my presents but Mum and Dad claimed they were too tired. “Sure, sweety.” Dad lowered me back to the ground and ruffled my hair. She was sucking her lips, scrunching her face like she had just bitten into ice-cream. Her skin was all patchy and her head completely bald with beady eyes that swirled about in their sockets. If it meant we could go home sooner - fine. “Well, she’d love to meet her big sister.” “I’m OK,” I replied, and continued squiggling my latest masterpiece. Grandma’s eyes were wet and she kept sniffling into her sleeve. In Mum’s arms was a bundle of blankets, and a little pink face peeked out from them. They both entered Nan’s dining room where I was drawing elves and reindeers on the front of her Yellow Pages in red Sharpie. It was dark outside when Mum and Dad arrived to collect me. A woven-basket to hang on the front of my tricycle. Grandma tried to make the day nice for me. I wanted to watch The Grinch on VHS and open my brand new doll which at the moment, was sprawled across the floor and all alone. “You’re going to have a brand new baby sister.” But I wasn’t excited, nor did I want a sister. “Isn’t this exciting?” Grandma said every couple of minutes. I was dropped off at Grandma’s house, and my parents sped to the hospital. “Now.” He hooked my arms around his neck, took Mum’s hand, and together we left Christmas behind us. “But-” As I reached for the box in his hand, he chucked it to the other side of the room, sparkles mushrooming in the air. “We need to go, Hannah.” Dad shot up and pulled the present from my grasp. My small fingers were grappling with the paper when Mum started puffing and groaning. I prayed it was a new Barbie doll, the type I had seen advertised on TV with pink roller-skates and golden pigtails that dangled from under a helmet. Giddy with excitement, I shook the parcel against my ear, listening for a whisper that told me what was inside. Dad handed me my first present, it was shoe-box shaped and twinkled with crimson glitter. They were all different sizes, some adorned large bows and some were tied with string, but all of them - every single one - were addressed to me. A sea of gifts were scattered across the room, shrouded in bright red and green wrapping. My Mum, belly all swollen like the stuffed turkey in the oven, was sitting on the sofa and my Dad next to me, cross-legged on the carpet. My favourite film, How The Grinch Stole Christmas, was playing on the VHS player and the smell of pine and sweet pancakes wafted around us. Somehow, I still remember that morning vividly. That should tell you everything you need to know about her. Yes, I know it’s only August! Please forgive me. Content warning: This story is about Christmas.
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