Role Model

The smell of my most favorite breakfast in the world woke me up. Mommy was making pancakes! I jumped outa my bed real quick and ran downstairs to the dining room. My whole entire family was already down there. My mommy was talking on her cell phone to Mr. England, her business partner. That’s not really his name, but I call him that ‘cause he lives in England.
“James, can’t you just meet me with them yourself? I have meetings here and I’ve gone to England five times in the past six months. I need a break,” she said very sad.
My dad was reading the newspaper. He watched the stock markets. I tried to do it once with him, but I thought they were boring. He told me it was a grown up thing. Maybe I’ll understand it when I’m in first grade.
Mikki, my older sister, was the only one eating, but she didn’t seem to want to be. She never seemed hungry. I asked Mommy why, and she told me Mikki was very dark.
“Does wearing black make you not hungry?” I asked her.
“No, Ginger,” she answered. “I mean she’s sad a lot.”
“Why is she sad?”
“I don’t know. Some people don’t have reasons for being sad.”
Mikki was the bestest sister ever. She didn’t like me, but I loved her. I told her I wanted to be like her someday. She told me to get out of her room.
I started wearing dark clothes, too. They don’t make me not hungry. I had my mommy put eyeliner on me. She said I was too young, but I screamed until she did. I smiled ‘cause I looked just like Mikki. Except my hair. It wasn’t dyed black like hers.
When my mommy goes to England, she takes Daddy with her. She says she won’t be gone long, and Mikki can take care of me. She gives Mikki money and the keys to the car. Mommy can’t do my make up when she’s gone. I beg Mikki to do it, and she does after a while. I even got her to paint my nails black and dye my hair black. Mommy wasn’t happy.
I sat down across from my sissy and started shoveling pancakes on my plate. She glowered at me for copying her fashion.
“Why do you want to be like me?” she demanded.
“’Cause you’re pretty.”
That seemed to make her anger go away. She still didn’t smile.

Later that week, while Mommy was in England, Mikki brought home a boy. His name was Pip. That wasn’t his real name though. He was dark, too. She took him to her room. I asked what they were going to do. She said they were going to play a game. I wanted to play too, but she wouldn’t let me.
I really wanted to know what they were playing. I went to her room real quiet and opened the door a little. She had him pressed against the wall and she was kissing him real hard. They boy saw me. I ran away to my room. I decided the game looked fun, and I wanted to play real bad.
The next day, on the playground, I chased this boy named Peter to the wall. I pushed him hard into it and I pressed my mouth rough on his, making smoochy noises like Mikki. He pushed me hard on the ground and ran to the teacher. I cried. Mrs. Derry came to me and said that it was intolerable behavior for a kindergartener. She took me to the office and called the house. Mommy answered, but she wasn’t home. When she’s on vacation, calls are sent to her call phone. She talked to me for a minute. She was really mad. She said she was gonna have Mikki deal with me.
When I got home, Mikki started hitting me very hard. She called me words Mommy told me never to say. I cried, and my body ached. She told me if I copied her, Mommy would find out things she was doing. That still didn’t help. I still wanted to be like her.

One day, while mommy was still gone, I saw Mikki in the bathroom with a razor. At first, I thought she was shaving her arms, but then I saw blood. She was cutting herself.
I got really scared. I wanted to be just like her, but I didn’t want to do that. I made up my mind. I was going to do it.
I skipped to the kitchen. My stomach felt funny and my hands were shaking. I took a knife from the drawer. I stared at it, and I started to cry silent. I put the cold metal to my wrist, closed my eyes, and pressed it hard on my skin. The first cut was very painful, but the second one was better. I kept cutting, slowly getting used to it. I felt warm liquid dripping to my hand. I opened my eyes, and when I saw my bloody arm, the pain got worse. I got real dizzy and everything went black.
I woke up with Mikki’s face glaring at me. She started beating me again. She told me to stop copying her, but I didn’t listen.

The next day, Mikki dressed me in long sleeves. She told me not to show anyone her arm, or she’d beat me again.
I obeyed her. I didn’t show anyone my cuts. When I came home, Pip was back. They were sitting on the couch, smiling stupid at each other. He put a pill on her tongue, and she swallowed it happily. It seemed to make her different. They went upstairs to her room, and I went to the coffee table. I picked up the medicine bottle, wanting to be like her. I took four of the little pills out. I put them in my mouth and gulped them down with water. I sat down on the couch, and nothing happened at first. Suddenly, I began to lose my breath. I got dizzy, and everything went black.
But I never woke up to be beaten by Mikki. Instead, I visited my dead grandparents. They told me I was in Heaven. I never knew they had such a medicine! I thought I’d find Mikki and Pip, since they took the Heaven pills, too, but Grandma said they didn’t take enough. She smiled warmly at me and gave me a cookie.

The moral of this story is that one needs to be careful of his or her actions when he or she is around younger people. Children are more observant than one could imagine.