Disclaimer: I own nothing. It's all Jo's.
Family
"Okay, now I want everyone to draw their families." Ms. Conway said excitedly to the class of five-year-olds.
Everyone in the class began to grab blank pieces of paper, colored pencils and crayons. All but one. A boy who was smaller than the rest of the children in the room. Or did it just seem that way because of the clothes that were obviously much to large for him?
But the teacher did not seem to notice that he froze when she had given them the assignment.
"My family," he muttered under his breath.
He wasn't sure what he was supposed to draw. He knew that he could've drawn his aunt and uncle and cousin. But even the little boy knew that they were not what a family was supposed to be.
Slowly, he grabbed his pencil and paper. He put the point to the edge of the page and drew a small line. He felt a small embarrassed flush come across his cheeks. The pencil was a plain gray, unlike the rest of his classmates, who were drawing in reds and yellows.
Taking a deep breath, he began to draw what he did not know, just imagined. A tall skinny man with hair that went everywhere, like his own. Now a woman with long hair, he wanted to believe that she was beautiful. Then he drew himself, messy hair and glasses. Rather than putting the hands of himself by his sides, like he had of the mystery man and woman, he put them slightly up. The boy in the picture was now holding hands with whoever these people were.
He now gave the bodies faces, all smiling, because that's what families did, wasn't it? Smile. He wasn't sure, but he drew the lines so the turned upward. He liked it better that way. Better than the faces that were supposed to be his family, always with that look that made their faces screw up, like he wasn't quite right. Like he was strange.
He looked to his right at a small girl who sat next to him, but as far away as possible, not wanting anyone to think that she really wanted to sit there by him. Her picture had three small figures and two tall ones and a kind of blob, which could have been some sort of pet. They were smiling.
"You're already done, Harry?" Ms. Conway was walking through, checking to see how everyone was doing on the project. She knelt beside him and looked at the paper with him and the imaginary people.
"Is that your aunt and uncle?" She asked him.
"No," Harry said quietly.
"Who are they?" She tried to sound interested.
He hesitated. He couldn't say it was his family. They weren't, he didn't know who these people were.
"I don't know." He replied morosely.
He put his hand over the picture, hiding it from his teachers view.
"Oh, but you must know who you are drawing. Are they your parents?" She was trying to be encouraging.
"I made them up." Harry whispered, so the children around him couldn't hear. He then removed his hand from the page and pointed to the man and woman. "I don't know what my parents look like."
His teachers face fell as she looked at the small child in front of her. Like anyone would be, she was shocked that this little boy had no idea of what his parents even looked like.
"Your aunt and uncle must have photos." She said, now feeling immensely sad for him.
"No, I don't think they liked them very much." He turned away from her, signaling that he was done talking about the picture. And grabbed the regular gray pencil and got back to work. He drew a sun and a tree and an squiggly line beneath the feet of the people, representing the ground.
Once Harry was finished he stared at the gray and white figures. He knew that this is not what they would have looked like. They must have actually existed at one time and were not just a figment of his imagination. If they had not existed then he would not be here.
He rested his head on his desk and closed his eyes. He tried to imagine them. What they would be like. He saw a woman with a kind demeanor, she looked down at him and a smile immediately graced her face. Harry walked towards her in his mind and she held out her arms. Not knowing quite what he was doing he wrapped his arms around her and she lowered herself and did the same. It was warm and he felt completely at ease.
He then imagined a man next to himself and the woman. The man bent down onto his knees and ruffled Harry's hair. The woman let go and then the man pulled Harry into an embrace.
Harry felt tears well up in his little boy eyes. He knew it was unfair. How come it was him who couldn't have a family who wanted him? What had he ever done to deserve the life he was given? Why was it, when he did nothing wrong, he got treated horribly. But his cousin was the one of the most horrible people he knew and he got all he ever wanted. Harry felt a stab of jealously.
His cousin had a mum and dad who loved him. Harry had an aunt and uncle who forced him to live underneath the stairs and, on occasion, didn't feed him. For birthdays his cousin got anything and everything he wanted. Harry might get a pair of socks, but never new ones. His cousin had friends, despite how stupid they may be. Harry only had himself.
Harry took a deep breath. Even at the age of five, he knew he had been given a rotten hand of cards. But like he knew this, he also knew that there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. Like his aunt had told his cousin, when he had fallen off his bike and scraped his knee, it was only going to get worse before it gets better.
Harry finished the rest of the school day thinking of what his life could possibly be when the worst was over and the good would finally make an appearance.