vesper daisy {six} cbd2, fin

I miss our cheap chandelier. 

It reminded me that you can get nice things in life. Nice things--pretty things, like gold and silver and my mother's old engagement ring. That chandelier reminded me that even if you have very little, things can mean a lot. Dad hung it up, and I can remember how he botched the electrics and we were stunned when it actually worked. It was a cheap chandelier, but it was our chandelier.

He's gone now. Living with mum's new boyfriend isn't bad but it isn't exactly great; I miss my old room. I fell asleep in my tears the few nights but told myself to grow up, to grin and bear it, because if she's happy, then nothing else really matters. Family is everything to me--Dad used to call me his champion because we all had each other, and he thought we had already won life's game. He'd crack open a beer, I can still hear the sound when I think long and hard enough, and he'd toast to us. Messing up my ginger curls with his free hand, he'd toast to us.

I don't dislike how things are now, but I wish things were still like they were. I miss being afraid of the monsters under my bed and not having to look after children which aren't even my siblings. I miss learning from people and not the world because people tell stories in ways the world cannot: there is emotion and feeling. Awe and wonderment from their experiences, I could get lost in them like they were their own kind of fairy tales even though they lacked the magic.

Now, we're poorer than ever before. Mum's boyfriend doesn't work and he's only gone and got her pregnant; we have to rely on change found in the cushions.

I'm saving up for a new chandelier. I miss our cheap chandelier.