Another brilliant piece from a GUNNAS WRITING MASTERCLASS WRITER.
Once upon a time there were two sisters: an older one, who knew most things and a younger one, who learned everything she knew from her sister. The older sister had lots of rules. She loved them. Rules made the messy world straight, rules kept everything to time and they made her feel happy. But no matter how much the younger one tried, she couldn’t quite keep to the rules. She tapped out of time to the music and ran late for the bus. She never sang the melody but would add her own harmonies, which sometimes worked and sometimes didn’t. The older sister thought if the little sister just tried harder, she would be able to live by the rules. But she couldn’t.
The older sister had a red tricycle with a wagon on the back. Every day, she would ride around the lemon tree in their backyard on her red tricycle. She liked the younger sister to ride in the back so they could enjoy the journey together. But as the younger sister got bigger, she no longer fit in the wagon. Still, the older sister insisted, so she would curl her legs up under her chin and squash herself in and watch from behind as her sister pedaled her way around the backyard. The older sister was pleased and the younger sister was glad to make her sister happy, even though it hurt to squash her legs in, she was scared she might topple over and fall out and she couldn’t really see anything from the wagon.
One day, she had a graze on her leg and didn’t want to squash into the tricycle. She argued with her sister and her sister’s face grew red. Mum came out and asked what the fuss was about. The older sister explained that she wanted to ride around the garden together and Mum said, ‘That’s so sweet, let me get my camera.’ Now the little sister had no choice. The older sister smiled sweetly for the camera as she pedaled past, but the little sister, whose graze was hurting and whose legs were aching, couldn’t smile. She had a look of suffering, a look of defeat and a hint of defiance in her face.
The photo became a family favourite, the two sisters doing something together, one having a ball and the other grimly surviving. Everyone laughed at the little sister’s pudgy little body, the rolls of fat in her neck and her sulky face. The little sister never forgot the feeling of being pushed into the red wagon, knowing she didn’t fit, and having to do it anyway.
And because of that, one night when her parents and her sister were asleep, she stole the family photo album, found the photo and hid it in her sock drawer.
Until finally, one day, her family was looking through the photo album and wondered where that photo had gone. The little sister said nothing about where the photo was. ‘I hated that photo,’ the little sister said, and her family was very surprised.