10.

I wake up from a sun-drenched sleep.
Its seeped into my flesh made the muscles hot and dreamy, slow to respond.
Somehow the sun cured me, the warmth leeched further in than my skin. Deeper than my bones, right into my blood, right into my marrow.

Hot pink speckled legs take me; they dance downstairs and a tummy stirs. Wow am I hungry.

I feel so much better; finally woken up, finally alive. The cold hits me, refreshing. A waterfall of air plays with the hairs on my arms, legs, shivers. The fridge light rushes into blinking eyelashes. I grab at things, knowing I can't stay down here too long, the cold brings the unhappiness.

5pm and it's light outside.
Blossoms still glow transparent in an egg shell, blue sky that looks impossibly close, but knowing that if I touch it all my color will fade away because the sky is merely nothingness, too pure for a hand to touch, too searing and empty all at the same time.

You would be proud of me today; I made a peanut butter and bean sprout sandwich. I'll share it with you if you promise you'll come home.

I have to run back the tui only stays in the kowhai for so long before it goes. The tui is the one who teaches us, me. There is no us. You aren't here. Silly me; always forgetting. There's no talk unless the phone rings, its never you though. There's no sound unless the music plays, the TV is on, the computer beeps. It's unnatural.

Nothing can breath.
I can feel my eyes begin to glaze. As the light shifts the plum tree shrinks, you stand below it in red overalls dotted with white specks like the tree is dotted with its spring time blossoms. Reaching you can't get the fruit unless you jump up and grab, but it's squashed now. You laugh at the warm juice staining your hands.

Building forts with sheets. Inside the light glows, greens and yellows as we pretend mums and dads, star rockers and underwater creatures. We pretend we go to the beach in a blue tarpaulin sand pit, but there's something wrong. No waves crash against shifting shells. You trick me so I run.

The apple tree scratches me as I walk up the garden, remembering, the scratches aren't as bad as the roses. Do you rember crisp autumn mornings on the nasturtium hill, playing king and queen winning battles with chickens who pecked at our fort? We conquered them, they followed, our servants (with the help of wheat rattling in a bucket.) You silly chook with a plastic bag on your front, fig leaves sticking out from behind your hair. Pohutukawa blossom earrings and a smile smeared with rice cracker and honey. Wooden sticks from G-pa's Te Tree forest, who would play the cripple today?

Waiheke meant sea lice bites itching our skin. Swearing to one another never to go there again. Home made hamburgers on the portable stove top in the help me stand up kitchen. Yours came first. You were the favorite, that's why I didnt need to cry at the funeral. What are you going to do when Iris dies? When Grandad and Nana die? When mum and dad and aunties and uncles all die? Will you hold me if I cry?

I don't scream at mum anymore. I don't bang doors or scratch or pinch or bite like I used to. I don't scribble on walls or tear up books anymore. I don't have tantys in the middle of foriegn French museums and drag a teddy behind me when I stomp around.

I don't need hugs when I'm tired I don't get put to bed or get fetched hot milk in the midle of the night. I don't get kisses on my forehead or bear hugs from dad. I go out by myself, I don't need your guiding hand. I'm taller now, fatter too. I have a boyfriend, I drive the car. Finally out grown the bigger sister, it was obvious I would. Did you see it?
Are you proud now that I'm all grown up?
Or are you like me?

Are you scared?