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In Her Shadow (Part One)
I lived in the shadow of a sister I never really knew, a sister who vanished without a trace when I was an infant, and she was thirteen. Hannah was the golden child, that much was obvious, bright and ambitious even as a little girl, my Mom’s eyes lit up whenever she talked about Hannah, not so much when it came to me. I would excitedly bring a report card with Straight A’s Home, and she’d tell me how Hannah got A+ in the same subject.
Living in the shadow of a missing sister, a sister you know statiscally is likely dead is not an easy task, but instead of coddling me, my Mother left me to my own devices, she fed me of course, provided shelter, clothing and toys, but the toys, the television, the computer and books became my babysitter, often I was left feeling like a stranger in my home, there were no happy family pictures after Hannah went missing, laughter was rare, and came mostly from the television, by the time I was eight, I spent more time away from home than I did at home, when I was at a friends house I didn’t feel as if I was in the shadow of a sister I had no memory of.
I wanted to remember Hannah, to share just a little piece of her with my Mother so we’d have at least that in common. A memory of Hannah could give us a reason to bond, but I wasn’t even six months old when she vanished without a trace on a stormy winter afternoon, she had no memory of that of…
