Searching

I am 14.Mother and grandmother are huddled together writing a letter. I can hear them discussing the contents of the letter. They are writing to the Salvation Army in an attempt to find Father. I hear them discuss that they want him found in time for my sisters 18th birthday so that she can meet him and I hear them decide to sign the letter as if it is from my sister.
Even though I have been told by Grandmother that Mother went away and when she came back she was heavily pregnant with me I have also always been told that I have the same Father as my sister.
I am beyond excited hearing them put the letter together but become confused on hearing that they are to sign the letter from my sister only and I want to know why I am not included. When I ask them they look at each other and then become cross with me, they tell me not to listen at doors to business that does not concern me, but I am too excited at the prospect of meeting my Father and tell them that they must sign the letter from me too. Again they look at each other and after a pause Mother says that the letter will be from me too and that I am to go away, mind my own business and leave them in piece to finish the letter. So I do and that is the last I hear of the letter writing, my sister never mentions it to me and neither does anyone else.
I hope that the letter has been posted and, in my mind, I constantly fantasise about my Father. I imagine him to be perfect in every way and to be relieved to have been found. I imagine him telling me that he has been searching for me too, that he has always loved me and that he lost me through no fault of his own.

Now I am 13

Now I am 13.We have moved to a new house only 5 minutes away from our old house but according to Mother and Number 3 this house is in a better area. We all have to be very quiet when Number 3 is around. If I am in the lounge and Number 3 enters the room I always want to run away but I become paralysed with fear and stay where I am. In the mornings Number 3 wears a dressing gown as he takes his coffee in the lounge. Number 3 calls this dressing gown his robe. It is very short and as he sits down he always crosses his legs which cause his robe to ride up and expose his private parts which dangle down his leg. As he puffs on his cigarettes I feel sure Number 3 knows that he is exposing himself but he never makes any attempt to cover himself up. At first I am really terrified at the sight of his private parts but as this happens every day I sort of become accustomed to it and in addition to the fear the sight of him makes me cringe. I don’t tell anyone about this. A few months after the move Mother and Number 3 separate, I don’t know why .It is a relief to be no longer living under his iron rule and an even bigger relief to not have to look at his private parts every day.