Things had turned for the worst just days after we had excitedly moved into our new house. All the joy happiness and hope instantly evaporated just before the start of a new school year.
All the camaraderie mysteriously vanished, as my family of joyful goodwill, bonhomie and palpable love turned to nervous, suspicious loners, guarded on every word or action.
The worry was I could not pinpoint what the catalyst was for this bile fed atmosphere. Our parents became argumentative and distant, and solemnity became the way of our once happy dynasty.
My twin sister, Sally, was the first to break the shackles of our residual omnipresent gloom. She was always a bundle of bouncy, outgoing ecstasy and very quickly made a new host of friends at our new college.
Our mournful existence was dragged begrudgingly by time. It was finally broken when Sally found a desire in making the college's cheerleader team. An aim with her natural good looks, exuberant personality and a strong hard work ethic would be taken with ease.
"I'm in, I've made the team," hollered Sally bouncing through the kitchen shaking her hands above head. Vigorously pulsating on the spot, bursting with exuberance like a cheerleader whirling dervish on speed!
She looked as happy as I had ever seen her. She bounced and hollered not caring that her pleated cheerleader skirt was flapping up and exposing her underwear. Her joyful exuberance was naturally infectious and injected the first breach of sustained misery that pervaded our dwelling.
"Congratulations," I energetically praised as I lifted my head from the table out of my teatime stupor, genuinely happy for my pretty sister. I knew that she and her friends had their heart set on making the team, so much, so they even bought the uniform beforehand to make a wholehearted impression.
"Good for you!" Added our father rapidly lowering his newspaper to reveal a big sincere smile of empathy for Sally's triumph.
I was really pleased for her although I found her desire to be ogled at by thousands of Neanderthal randy teens at a Piltdown football match slightly bemusing. She had practised every available minute in her bedroom, driving me nuts as I tried to study in the bedroom next door.
"I've invited some of the other girls around tonight so we can practise on the lawn!" She cheerily announced still unable to keep still, her budding breasts visually trembling under her tight dark red uniform top.
"Really?" sternly reproached Father pushing his specs up his nose, "And on whose lawn will that be taking place?" he teased.
Sally momentarily came down with a thump, taking Father seriously. Her face broke into a smile again, "Can we Daddy, Please?"
"Only if I get a big kiss from my treasured daughter."
Sally waltzed around the kitchen table and gave Father a huge hug and kissed her captive full on the lips with a force that pushed his head right back.
"Oh, I say!" he blushed as she let him come up for air.
"Thank you, daddy, thank you," she loudly gushed hugging and kissing him all the while just as our Mother heftily barged through the door with a big basket of washing under one arm.
"Sally's made the Cheerleader team," reported Father still being half-strangled and hugged by the high-spirited Sally.
"Really?" dolefully answered our Mother as she methodically lifted and folded our wet clothes from her basket. "Maybe she'll find time to tidy her room properly now," she spitefully mumbled.
"Oh come on Christine, give the girl a break," protested father as Sally sighed and playfully poked her tongue behind Mother's back before shooting off to her room.
" She's an A1 student, never in trouble, doesn't do drugs and soon you'll be able to watch her perform once and a while at the football," defended Father.
"Well, it would be nice if somebody performed around here!" shouted Mother before angrily moving on, "anyway, you've seen her perform many times."
I looked at Father, who promptly hid his face in the newspaper again. I knew something wasn't right with Mother and Father and what was all that "treasured daughter stuff about? Why was Mother suddenly venting her anger about chores where before she was incredibly supportive and helpful in our subjects?
It was too easy to blame the house, as it was perfect for our needs. It was spacious and quiet, with helpful, friendly neighbours situated ideally on the outskirts of town.
It was ultra-modern, and apparently, we bought it at a snip, as the previous owners were hot to trot. From the moment we truly felt at home in our new house was the time that Mother had declared she wanted to move again.
All the excited newly picked cheerleaders Mandy, Gemma, Jane, Sandra and Liz, came to our house. They scuttled up to Sally's room to change after quickly giving cursory welcomes.
I went to leave the kitchen and go to my bedroom when I heard a scathing
