You've gotta love Poppy.. Well, I certainly hope you will once you've finished reading this :)

One).

The First thing my daddy did when I was born was to hold me in his arms, kiss me on my forehead and sing Little Boy Blue until I fell soundly asleep. I always have asked my mum, 'Why that song?' But often her reply is along the lines of 'I don't know sweetie, I never found out'.

For breakfast he always used to make me pancakes - the small kind heaped on a big pile with a knob of butter and drenched in gallons of maple syrup. Of course, I never managed to eat them all, I was only little after all, so he often stole one or two to 'help' me out.

I remember being five years old, the winter drawing near by the day, and trying to figure out how to put my coat on. Mum says, apparently I looked quite annoyed when daddy came from behind me, laughed, and scooped me up into his arms, all the while sorting out my malnourished, furry jacket. We were going to the harvest festival at our local church so I was quite excited as I had never been before.

We had come out of the church with three new loaves of bread, two large pumpkins, and and aubergine. We had to cross a field to get back to the car but I didn't mind. We raced there, me ploughing with all my might, and daddy holding back respectfully. I beat him to it obviously.

I was very short, and he was very tall so when I hugged him, my arms just fit around his thigh. I gurgled a chuckle, and fell asleep on the way home.

I remember... Mum was quiet when we got home, and she handed daddy the post just as solemnly. She trembled slightly as she shuffled back to the kitchen and I obediently her. There was a freshly baked cake on the table, ready to be eatenand I had looked up gleefully into her face but there wasn't a trace of happiness in her lonely eyes, not a trace.

Daddy had looked grave as he entered the room. I wondered if it was for the same reason as mums lack of optimism... But I was only young. I didn't understand as mum rushed to him, bursting into tears on his shoulder. I didn't know what he meant when he said that he had to go away for awhile abroad. I did not get what the matter was. I did not know.

We ate a slice of mums cake each in silence. But it tasted dry and flavourless, unlike mums normal cooking. I pushed it away stubbornly. And then my daddy lost it. He made me go to my room and go to sleep. Before half past six.

He left early the next morning to go to 'Afghanistan' and that was the last time I saw him. Waving goodbye in the back of a black cab with the few belongings he'd need and that he owned. I'm thirteen now and I really do think that someone should explain to me why he hasn't answered my last twenty - or - so - calls.

Cliffhanger! I shall continue this story once I get at least five reviews so please start writing in :) Love you guys, you mean so much to me :) x