JENSYN (Seven years old)
Mum sat on the big sofa chair—the one that made a whump sound when you sat on it. A book rested on her lap as she smiled. She looked peaceful. It had been long since she smiled. Maybe it was because of the baby. Maybe it was because of me; I didn't know, and I didn't ask.
She touched her belly. That gesture reminded me that my baby sister was there. Mum called her ‘my princess’. She called me Princess too. She said I was the first princess and my unborn sister was the second.
“Mum, can I feel the baby?” I asked softly. Mum looked up with eyes the same colour as mine. She smiled.
“Not until I see that famous essay.”
I giggled and got up from the rug.
My essay. I forgot about that. I had written an essay about the weather, and I got the highest score. It wasn'
