They were in the car opposite the road.

As they fought, she played with her toys. She tried to pretend it didn’t bother her. They always fought. She wished she could make it stop. She wished the fighting would stop. What could she do? Why did they stay together if all they did was fight?

 

Plates started crashing.

 

 

There was one time, she read a letter her father wrote. Full of promises even her young mind knew he would not be able to keep. It broke her heart. Not because of what he wrote, but why did he have to write those things in the first place?

 

Sometimes they fought when they thought she was asleep. She would hear her name too, sometimes.

 

Was she the cause?

 

No. They were just unhappy. Why were they still together if they were unhappy?

 

But if they weren’t together anymore, what would happen to her? It was then that she realized, she was part of why they fought. Why they bothered fighting at all. It was because she existed. They could easily give up on each other had it not been for her existence.

 

When they fought, she would curl up in a corner, praying to God that should it bring them happiness, that He take her away. Let her be with her unborn brothers and sisters. Did He not want her in the heavens?

 

When she got sick, and she was often so; she thought that it was her time. That He had come for her. So Mommy and Daddy can be happy. Let her be taken away. No one seemed to want her anyways. At least, not her. They always seemed to want a different version, and no matter how hard she tried, she never seemed to meet anyone’s standards.

 

Somehow, always, she seemed to recover. She wondered if they ever felt disappointed that she did.

 

 

 

 

She still wonders to this day.