{FICTION} So Close - Prologue Part 2

Prologue - Part 2 -

Somewhere in the present.

I am about to record an summary of the events that occurred in the few months after I was born.

All this information was given to me by my dad over the course of my life and I think should be recorded for the sake of my family, friends and because it is important not to forget.

I don’t know what I would do if I had the power to change what happened back then. Would I be a different person now? Would I be happier?

But I never had a choice – maybe some day I will – maybe.

First of all, I will introduce myself.

My name is Kiandra Day also known as Kendra, which is just a lazy way of saying Kiandra.

I was born in the year 1986 on a cold December morning – that’s what daddy tells me anyway.

I’ve been told that childbirth brings with it severe pain – the worst pain a person can naturally experience.

However as soon as that new born baby is placed in the mothers arms, the pain would be forgotten as if it had never even happened.

In the case of my mother the pain would have been twice as hard to bare because I wasn’t the only person to be born that day. My sister Ember came into the world just a few minutes before I did.

I have told myself a thousand times that the hurt and discomfort must have been too much for my mother – that she was too young to understand how much my sister and I would have loved her – how she would never know what a huge space she left in our lives.

A space we were constantly aware of, but tried to ignore.

Even now I still get that desperate feeling in the pit of my stomach. Those moments when I just need the hug of a mother, but she’s not there – ever, and I feel so completely hopeless.

No one could ever fill the gap she left ... not even the love of my life.

She left us at the hospital that day.

Deserted us and left us with an ignorant and scared father – who at 18 years of age was not nearly adequate or ready enough for the responsibility of one daughter, never mind two.

He once let us read the letter she left him, it was as cold as ice, but even now I can’t bring myself to believe she was completely heartless.

I don’t know if my dad loved her, when we speak of her he keeps an impressively pristine poker face. When other people ask him about her he says,

‘She was just a girl I knew once for about 11 months, but I’m eternally grateful to her, she gave me my most treasured possessions, I’m only sorry she didn’t want to share them with me.’

Maybe he did love her. I don’t think he ever had another girlfriend after her. All he cares about is his work and his daughters and our grandma.

Grandma is the best person I will ever know. Our grandfather was a millionaire, but she still made my father work hard for his own fortune rather than inherit it all. She knows life is hard and people have to learn to live it – it can’t be lived for us.

She is strong and brave and if I could be like anyone it would be her.

When we were left alone with daddy, she took control straight away, taking care of legalities, making sure right at the start we would have a firm foundation to our lives – taking charge of the baby girls who would never have a mother.

She pretty much raised us. Daddy wasn’t much help during his first years of parenthood. He had a lot to learn, but she was the perfect teacher. Though, at some points she did seem to treat him cruel.

For example, she never gave him financial support. Even when he begged her.

‘I’ll help with the girls, but you have to be a man and support them – you are a father now, you have to act like one’

So he tried his best. He dropped school and used the money he had saved for university to make a down payment on a small house. He then got a job working at an art gallery as a technician – one of those people who are trained in the special skills of how to clean and pack and move priceless art collections. The pay was decent, but when I became very ill with pneumonia at 9 months old it wasn’t enough.

He had not accounted for hospital bills. And I suppose if he had, I wouldn’t even be writing this.

I was rushed to hospital and was given full treatment. Grandma was away at the time. I think she would have paid the hospital fees, but daddy freaked out with the stress he was feeling and he made a deal that would change my life forever.

A doctor of psychology called Doctor James Heart offered to pay financial support for my education and health fee’s for my entire life if dad would agree to let me be a part of a scientific study that he was currently working on.

Basically the suggestion was this - as soon as I was able to read and write, I would compose a letter once a week to a male of a similar age whom I would correspond with, but would never meet. Twice a year Doctor Heart would give me a survey to fill with questions about my friend and he would record my answers and compare them year after year.

Doctor Heart told my father that this was his life’s work and that it would make a breakthrough into learning more about how the human mind works. He said that soon in the future people would be corresponding without ever having to meet and he wanted to direct his investigation into how healthy this would be for the human mind.

To my young and naive father, the pros in this situation far outweighed the con’s and he made the agreement there and then in the hospital.

I would write a letter once a week from the age of four to whatever age I was when the Doctor decided he had enough data to make a result and conclusion.

There were specific rules -

First, the letter would have to be in electronic format – our house was provided with a computer with which I could type and print it out. I never knew why I couldn’t just write it by hand.

Second, once printed, the letter would be taken to Doctor Heart and he would personally send it – he would also send the replies from my friend back to me.

Third, the two correspondents were not allowed to meet while the research was taking place – ever.

And finally – if any of the rules were broken the financial support for my education and health would be cut off.

And that was it. All nicely tied up and seemingly innocent.

My father was pleased with himself at the time. He was helping me and helping scientific research, it seemed a win/win situation.

So my future was secure when it came to finances...but as for my mental stability, well, that’s one for the future to decide.

All I know is – I am that weird girl in class who depends on an imaginary friend to make her feel loved and alive.

Except my friend is real.

But that’s what all people with imaginary friends say

...isn’t it.

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So the second part isss donneee :)

To be honest I'm not quiet sure about it.

Not sure if it makes sense - I wrote half of it at 1am in the morning lolol

I hope you like it anyway. Im trying to make it interesting and mysterious as possible without being completely confusing rofl!!!

I shall bloggeroo later.

:D

Love Minnehhh!