My Sister, My Slave PT2

Kindergarten changed everything for me.

My Father had told me “just act normal” and “don't talk about anything with our home life or punishments.” I assume he expected mom to have prepared me more for this than she had. That or he just didn't care that much about me. It was always hard to tell with him how much was intentional vs just him being a narcissist. I still wonder to this day sometimes. Mom hugged me and said to “be myself” and “remember how we talked about theirs things you don't ever tell anyone who isn't me or your father.” I Had recently turned 5 and was nervous, my parents had never let me hang around other children before. In the end my worries proved mostly unfounded; I was surprised to learn I was tall for my age and unusually well built for a 5 year old: they measured me as at 3'9" and 45lbs. I was in a mixed kindergarten/first grade classroom. I wasn't the tallest kid but I was in the top 3 and was certainly the strongest; however due to my isolated upbringing I wasn't good at any of the popular games the kids played at recess as my hand eye coordination was lacking; that coupled with my introverted nature and the fact that I "talked funny" meant I made few friends my first years at school.

When my mother came to pick me up from my first half day of school to find my crying in the corner she was furious I don't think I had ever seen her show strong emotions for anything besides remorse or weakness until then, although she had the occasional burst of affection that she provided to me, which perversely made me crave it all the more, they were never prolonged periods. In direct contrast she was a picture of wrath incarnate as she stormed over and started screaming at the attendant; it turns out my father was born and raised in Finland and my mother was a first generation daughter of a Finnish immigrant couple; what this lead to was me speaking English "weird" since I was raised with a finish accent. Even now as an adult I've never met a single adult as cruel as kids can be to those who are different from them. When we got home she was still furious, practically foaming at the mouth, she told me to go straight to my room; then pulled out from under the kitchen island a large black plastic box, this was my first time seeing a satellite phone, I still wish it was my last.

Around 10 minutes later my mother came into my room,