Never since my excistence did I ever hate to be with someone more than my cousin. Stacey.
She wasn't your ordinary, distant cousin that you only saw once on Christmas day and only shared one smile and one hello with every 365 days. No, sadly not. Unfortunatley my cousin lived relativetly close to me, unfortunatley she was older than me.. greatly, and would use that to her advantage. She was an epic age of 17 years old. The world was her oyster, and her siblings and cousins were her slaves. So we were always remembered upon visits.
Stacey was like that big, bulky bully at school. An occasion chav in the lamps shadow. Her hair was brown and blonde and always tied in a tight ponytail at the back. She had dimples, but that was part of the deceptive smile which she so occasionally drew in her prey. The thing that symbolised Stacey the most was the ring on her finger, her left index one. Her punching fist. Or as she called it "IT". As in, she'd raise her fist and shout "Do you want IT?".
Stacey had two siblings, Jenny and little Travis - also my cousins. Jenny was an 11 year old who was in the year above me. Straight brown hair sank just below her shoulders and her main feature was her pulsing lips that overcasted her bulging brown eyes. She wasn't obese and nor was she anorexic for that matter, I envied her. She had a fantastic athletic build and she wasn't small and she wasn't tall. Jenny was white skinned but Travis was black. They both had seperate fathers, who unlike Stacey, were distant. We called Travis little because he was little, he wasn't exactly little for his age of 7 but compared to us he was small. Stupid, right? Stupid like his ambition to maintain a short afro that only was butchered at the barbers. On this occasion his hair was black and curly but short. He also had bulging brown eyes I could only guess he inherited from his mother.
They also felt her presence of gloominess and the dread of our mothers ever going out just terrified us. Stacey was our proud babysitter. Sadly.
My mother would freely drop us off at my aunts - us being me, Carrie a 10 year old, brown headed, tall girl and my brother Theo, who was a 13 year old, blonde bushy haired, troll who mocked everyone and everything. Even his company was better than Stacey's.
As soon as we stepped into the house we knew it was going to be bad. My cousin would play her act, all nice greeting and waving goodbye to my mum and aunt. Then when she stopped waving I knew it was going to get worst.
Order and control was all she wanted, also respect. She seemed to enjoy the playrole of being something she wasn't. She'd play the nice sweet innocent babysitter then transform into a child eating, brutal monster with furious roaring fits.
Now the transformation was complete I could only expect the worst.
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