**A Ghastly Discovery**
It all came to light by sheer chance. My little four-year-old sister, Daisy, had developed an umbilical hernia. The doctors insisted she needed surgerysooner rather than later. But Daisy refused point-blank to go to the hospital without our dad. We waited for him to return from his haulage route, and he walked her right into the operating theatre.
“Daddy, will you wait here for me?” she sobbed.
“Where else would I go, love? Of course Ill wait. Why are you crying? Youre my brave little girl, arent you?”
“Im not crying, Im just breathing hard!”
And with that, they wheeled her away. It was a routine procedure, but the hospital required Mum and Dad to donate blood.
“Only one of us should match her blood type, right?” Dad asked. “Maybe you should test first so we dont give more than needed.”
“Theres no such thing as too much blood!” the doctor said firmly.
Mum and Dad both donated. Mum was palelooked like she might faint any second. She couldnt sit still afterward, kept flitting about, chatting with the nurses. Eventually, Daisy was wheeled out. Dad went to meet her, like hed promised. He stayed with her all weekend. Mum finally relaxed, checked on her, then dragged me homeeven though I protested.
“I can stay with her too,” I insisted stubbornly.
I was eleven at the time. Daisy, my little blonde sister, meant more to me than anyonemaybe even more than Mum and Dad. How could I not adore her? She was an angel. A tiny, golden-haired angel.
Picture a small market town with a modest hospitalnew, well-equipped, even had a blood bank. But it was still just a backwater. Three days later, Daisy was home, and Dad was packing for another haul. He popped out for cigarettesbut came back looking like a storm cloud.
“Daddy!” Daisy wailed from her bedroom (she was still on bed rest). “Did you bring my marshmallows?”
Dad left the shopping bag in the hall, told me sharply to go to Daisys room, then steered Mum into the kitchen.
“John… John, whats wrong?”
The kitchen conversation was one Id only piece together years laterback then, Daisy and I understood nothing. She was too young, and I obeyed Dad without question. Daisy whimpered for him and her sweets, so I offered to read to her. Thank God, she agreed.
In the kitchen, Dadeyes wildbacked Mum against the wall. Nowhere left to retreat.
“Is it true? Daisys not mine?”
“How couldJohn, have you lost your mind? What are you saying?”
“Ill tell you what Im saying. Im blood type A-positive. Youre O-positive. And hers” He jerked his head toward Daisys room. “is AB-negative. If theres a mistake, we can test again.”
Mum shoved him aside, slumped at the table, and groaned into her hands.
“Bastards. I *told* them not to say anything! Why do they have to meddle? Jealous, John, thats what they are. We had everything. Beautiful children…”
“You *told* them? So its true.”
He left Mum weeping in the kitchen. One slip, just onceout of boredom, with some visiting engineer. Dad was always away, hauling. In films, lorry drivers are romantic. In real life? Its lonely and cold. Mum convinced herself he mustve strayed too, out there on the road. She jumped up, ran after himbut he was already gone. Only a box of marshmallows remained on the table.
After his next haul, Dad sat me down. Asked if Id live with him.
“Dad, what aboutwhat about Daisy? Mum? Cant you just stay?”
It felt like a boulder had dropped on me. Rocks are made of layersId seen videos. And the weight on my shoulders was just as jagged. Fear of losing Dad. Fear of choosing. Either way, Id lose someone. Counting the options, I chose to stay. Daisy + Mum outnumbered Dad. Though, honestly, Daisy alone mightve tipped the scales.
Dad met me often. Daisy, though? He acted like she didnt exist. I didnt understand, but I knewif he couldve explained, he would have. At first, Daisy moped and cried. It hurt to watch. Then she stopped asking about him. She withdrew, playing silently with her toys. I didnt know why this punishment had fallen on her, but I could guess. As for Mum…
Mum lost it. She started dragging junk home from the bins. At first, just useful things. Then anything. She stopped caring about us entirely, just sat among her trash, whispering, sorting. How a pretty young woman could turn into *that* in a year and a halfI couldnt fathom. But I never told Dad. Our neighbour, Mrs. Wilkins, looked after us sometimes. With Dads child support, I managed food. But the smell? It soaked the flat. Kids at school mocked me, but I ignored them.
“Mrs. Wilkins, can you teach me to iron?” I knocked on her door.
“Oliver, love, you need to *wash* things first…” She wrinkled her nose.
“Wont help. I do wash them. But Im seeing Dad tomorrowI need to look decent.”
“So he doesnt…?” She gasped. “He doesnt know about your mum?”
“I wont tell him. He leftso its not his problem!”
She let me in, then hesitated. “Bring Daisy too. Ill sort you both out. Andjust bring your clothes here. Change at mine. Whatever I can do…”
So we did. At least I didnt reek at school anymore. But Mrs. Wilkins didnt stop there. She went to Dad and shamed him. He met me after school.
“Why didnt you say anything?”
“Would you have come back?”
“No. But you couldve lived with me.”
“And Daisy?”
Dad stayed silent. I shook my head and turned toward home.
“Wait! Daisy could stay with Gran.”
“Grans got a new husband. She doesnt want us.”
“Right. Takes after” Dad cut himself off.
He did try talking to his ex-mother-in-law.
“John, are you mad? Why would I want little kids? Im living my second youth!”
“But Daisys your granddaughter!”
“Pity.”
“*What*?”
“Pity motherhoods obvious, but fatherhood isnt. If Id had a son, Id never know if his kids were really mine. But Daisy *is* mineand I still dont care. Ive got my own life.”
“Yeah. Shouldve taken a closer look at *you* before marrying Jane.”
One morning, Mum was gone. All her junk remainedshed only spared mine and Daisys roombut shed vanished. I opened a window; the icy air diluted the stench. Fed Daisy, nibbled something myself, then took her to Mrs. Wilkins.
“Mums gone. Ive got school.”
“Gone? In this freeze? Whered she go?”
**Final Words**
My mad, hopeless mother ended her days on a distant landfill. Why she froze instead of coming homeno one knew. Mrs. Wilkins said social services would take us now. And they came. The woman eyed our flat, then turned to Mrs. Wilkins.
“Could we… handle the paperwork at yours?”
“Course, come in,” Mrs. Wilkins sighed.
“Hold on.” Dads voice cut in as he climbed the stairs. “Just back from a haul. These are *my* kids.”
“Is the flat yours?” The woman smirked.
Dad didnt even glance inside. “Pack your things, Ollie. Were leaving. Well sort this place later.”
“Daisy?” I whispered, terrified.
“Obviously. Daisy, youre coming too.”
Daisy peeled herself off the wall and shuffled toward him.
“Daddy?”
“Yeah, love?”
“Is it really you?”
He scooped her up, holding her tight. “Its me. Im here. Its alright.”
“Dont leave again, Daddy!” she wailed.
I froze. Surely this would make the social worker take us anyway. But shed lost interest, gossiping with Mrs. Wilkins. And Dadtears streamingjust held Daisy. However hard hed tried to resent her, however long hed stayed away, his love won. His love for *us*.
“I wont. Im not leaving you again.”
**Lesson learned:** Blood doesnt always make familybut sometimes, love does.
