Uncle
Why does everything bad have to happen to me? Why can’t it happen to someone else? Why is everything my fault? I didn’t ask for her to die, I didn’t ask to be forced down here I didn’t ask for anything but to be happy. That is a faraway dream now. A faint memory; Lost in the wind.
Last week my mother and I left London to stay with my uncle in Scotland. 2 days ago she went back for something’s she left behind. Yesterday she died in the bombings. Now I am stuck. All alone with my horrid uncle; how come he isn’t out there fighting like my dad? How did he get out? My mother is - was - a lovely woman; always had a smile on her face, no matter what. The only time I saw her cry was 3 weeks ago, she was reading a letter. I never got to read that letter as the next day I saw it half burnt in the fire. She had no light in her an eye after that, her smile was pained, her hands shaky. Still, she carried on, never once faltering. Why can’t I be more like her?
Uncle says I’m being too closed off and I need to open up. What does he know? he doesn’t have any family. He doesn’t know what I’m going through. I don’t need to open up; I need dad. I need to see him and mum. He said once this useless war was over we’d have a picnic in the countryside and rent our own little cottage. Oh, how I wish he could be here right now to tell me everything would be okay. Uncle also says not to dwell on my father too much; to take him as a father figure. NEVER.