It happened for as long as I could remember. I was ten and my sister was four. I am middle- height with light brown hair, which goes blond in the summer. I have pale skin, and when the heat and sunlight touch it, my skin develops in to a sea of freckles. My sister has brown hair like mine. She is shorter than me and she has dark skin. We used to live like any other normal family. My dad was away on his new job a lot, he didn't used to be until some family problems came up and he made his decision not to stay often. He comes home every other weekend to see my sister and me. My house is fairly big, for its age. The garden, which was facing the road, had coarse dry grass, which lay like a carpet over the lawn apart from the weeds sprouting along the fence from our neighbours. We have a concrete path that leads up to the door, which only the postman walks up. My parents never socialised with anyone. They were alone in their separate little worlds, cut out from reality. I spend most of my time outside in the garden with my dad.
             My dad works in a coal mine and he looks show it. His looks had faded; his hair is a mix of grey and black thinning on both sides. His hands were calloused and red. He means the world to me. I do not get to see him as much as I would like, but it makes time that I do spend with him special, magical and unforgettable. He makes me laugh; he takes me away from the sad place that is known as home. Even if it is for a few hours I am thankful. However, when I do get home I cry, my face wet with tears. My insides get sore and I know that another painful day is about to start all over again. It wasn't always like this. This is about me. About my life.
             About two years ago, we were a family. All until my grandmother died. She was very close to my mum. All I remember of her, is that my grandmother was in a room; we did not have enough money for hospital treatment. She lay in bed, which was in our living room, whi...