LISA

Lisa woke up to the sound of her alarm clock, feeling groggy and disoriented. She rubbed her eyes and sat up, trying to shake off the last remnants of sleep. She looked around her bedroom, feeling a sense of familiarity and comfort. It was her room, the room she'd grown up in, with the same posters on the walls, the same furniture, and the same curtains that her mother had sewn herself. But something was different. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something was off. She got out of bed and walked over to the window, pulling the curtains aside to let the sunlight in. Outside, the world was waking up, with cars honking in the distance, birds chirping, and the sound of children playing. Lisa got dressed and went downstairs, where her mother was busy making breakfast. "Good morning, dear," her mother said, smiling. "How did you sleep?" "Okay, I guess," Lisa replied, still feeling a bit groggy. "What's for breakfast?" "Scrambled eggs and toast," her mother said, putting a plate of food in front of her. "Your favorite." Lisa dug in, feeling a bit more awake with each bite. She glanced at the clock on the wall and realized that she was running late. She quickly finished her breakfast, grabbed her bag, and headed out the door. As she walked down the street, she felt a sense of excitement and anticipation. It was the first day of school, and she was looking forward to seeing her friends again, meeting new people, and learning new things. She could hear the distant sounds of buses and shouts of the bus conductors on the main road, and she quickened her pace. Just then, she heard someone calling her name. It was Matilda, her next-door neighbor and schoolmate, running towards her. "Hey Lisa!" Matilda said, panting slightly. "Sorry, my mind was somewhere else." "It's okay," Lisa said, smiling. "It's good to see you." They walked to school together, chatting and laughing. When they arrived, the school was buzzing with activity. All the students were excited to be back after a long summer break. The school held an official pride of place among all the other schools in the area; it had a much larger auditorium, football field, and the best layout. The school buildings were arranged in small two-storey blocks. "Attention everybody!" the school prefect, Sandra, stood up on the stage. The school band struck up the tune, drum beating, and the students joined in. The juniors were eager and enthusiastic, and the seniors were uninterested. A few teachers were waiting outside the hall, ready to punish latecomers. After the national anthem and assembly prayers, Mr. Rogers, the school principal, gave a brief talk welcoming the new and old students. He was tall and skinny, a wiry man who spoke through his nose. "It's a pleasure to have all of you back," he said. "It's very important, however, that we face up to the responsibilities of this new term- particularly our final-year students." Lisa listened attentively, feeling a sense of responsibility and purpose. She was starting her final year at school, and she knew that it was time to take things seriously. She had big dreams and aspirations, and she was determined to make them a reality. As the assembly ended, Lisa and Matilda headed to their first class. They were both in the same class, and they were excited to see what the year had in store for them. They walked into the classroom and took their seats, feeling a sense of anticipation and excitement. The day went by quickly, with classes, lunch breaks, and extracurricular activities. Lisa felt a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment, as if she was taking a step closer to her dreams with each passing moment. As the final bell rang, Lisa gathered her things and headed out of the classroom. She saw her brother Andrew waiting for her outside the gate, and she felt a sense of joy and relief. It had been a long time since she'd seen him, and she was looking forward to catching up. "Hey sis!" Andrew said, grinning widely. "Long time no see!" "Andrew!" Lisa said, hugging him tightly. "It's so good to see you!" They walked home together, chatting and laughing. When they arrived, their mother was waiting for them, looking worried and anxious. "What's wrong, Mom?" Lisa asked, sensing something was off. "Your father," her mother said, her voice trembling. "He's angry. He doesn't want Andrew here." Lisa felt a sense of frustration and anger. Her father had always been difficult, but she couldn't understand why he was treating Andrew this way. She hugged her mother tightly, feeling a sense of protectiveness and love. "Don't worry, Mom," Lisa said. "We'll figure something out. We're a family, and we stick together." Andrew grinned, feeling a sense of relief and happiness. He knew that he was home, and that nothing could change that. The next few days were filled with tension and unease. Lisa's father, Mr. Smith, refused to speak to Andrew or acknowledge his presence. He would glower at him from across the room, mutter insults under his breath, and generally make everyone's life miserable. Lisa and her mother tried their best to defuse the situation, but it seemed like nothing could appease Mr. Smith's anger. Lisa felt a sense of frustration and helplessness, as if there was nothing she could do to make things right. One day, after a particularly heated argument, Lisa went to her room and slammed the door shut. She felt tears welling up in her eyes, a mix of anger, sadness, and frustration. She sat down on her bed and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. As she looked around her room, she noticed something that she hadn't seen before. It was a picture of her and Andrew, taken when they were much younger. They were both smiling, with their arms around each other, happy and carefree. Lisa felt a pang of nostalgia and longing. She missed those days, when things were simpler and easier. She missed her brother, and she wished that things could go back to the way they were. Just then, there was a knock on the door. Lisa wiped away her tears and opened it, expecting to see her mother. But it was Andrew, looking sheepish and contrite. "Hey sis," he said, his voice soft. "I'm sorry about all this. I didn't mean to cause so much trouble." "It's not your fault," Lisa said, feeling a sense of relief. "It's Dad. He's just being difficult." "I know," Andrew said, nodding. "But I think I have an idea." "What is it?" Lisa asked, curious. "I think we should try to talk to him," Andrew said, his eyes serious. "I mean, really talk to him. Maybe if we can get him to see things from our perspective, he'll be more understanding." Lisa felt a glimmer of hope. It was a risky idea, but it was worth a try. She nodded and smiled, feeling a sense of gratitude towards her brother. "Okay," she said. "Let's do it." The next day, Lisa and Andrew sat down with their father, determined to have a heart-to-heart conversation. It was awkward and uncomfortable at first, with Mr. Smith refusing to listen or engage. But slowly, as they talked, Lisa could see a change in her father's demeanor. He was still angry and hurt, but he was starting to listen and understand. By the end of the conversation, Lisa felt a sense of relief and gratitude. It wasn't a magic fix, but it was a start. She hugged her father tightly, feeling a sense of love and forgiveness. As the days passed, things slowly started to improve. Mr. Smith was still difficult at times, but he was making an effort to be more understanding and accepting.