|I wish these images were clearer. My attempt at illustrating the story!|
As a child I often felt bullied by her manipulations. Seems we’ve both lacked desire for an adult relationship, probably born of jealousy as children. Nineteen months apart in age she was always a challenging child.
One afternoon we were sent to play in the yard while mom washed the floors on hands and knees. My cousin was forewarned not to touch the hose. Mustard seemed to hear everything in opposites, proceeding to place the hose inside a window, flooding the freshly washed floors and rugs. Mom loathed babysitting her namesake, fearing what her mischievous demeanor might conjure up next! I’m not sure the two sisters, (my mom and aunt), ever truly understood the emotional havoc she was capable of. Constantly making promises then lying and reneging. She was a sneaky little girl and I often wonder what made such a young person so devious.
|I've edited the saturation on this to look more vintage....|
One year we both received hand crafted doll cribs for Christmas. The following summer Mustard took my crib outside, flipped it over, and proceeded to jump off it, into our three foot pool. Over and over, taking more turns than necessary until Mom caught her and demanded she desist. Just one more time, but on the second turn, after mom firmly commanded her to stop, she crashed through the middle of the crib, shattering the base. Unrepairable, I was without a doll crib. Meanwhile hers sat perfectly nestled in her room, housing her dolls, eventually being passed on to her daughter. The right thing to do would have been to make her relinquish hers! No one did!
I had one Barbie and a few hand knit outfits for it. She had three Barbie’s, Skipper, Ken, and every accessory imaginable, with tons of clothes. Would she share? Never!
|I wish I'd tried to put humor into these little illustrations!|
Older and meaner, she manipulated me constantly, her personal prisoner; I had no words to explain what was happening to me. After years of constant abuse, tired of broken promises, one evening in the throws of spending the night, I called my parents and asked them to retrieve me. I was about eight, everyone was furious that I’d inconvenienced them. I couldn’t articulate my feelings, or what had transpired. I just knew I was sick of it.
|Do you prefer the vintage coloring or the brights?|
|Digital color alteration|
How about you, were you silently bullied by a relative? How did you react?
This is my contribution for Paint Party Friday! Apparently if too many people look at my images it takes up too much bandwith so they are bullying me to upgrade by not transmitting my images to my blog, just as another host tried to force me get google plus because I reached my image max... Of course there is no notice this will happen, they just all disappear off my blog...(thankfully they reset every month and today I got them back) This is why conversations on bullying need to start at a different level, long before it gets to the children.... Any suggestions are grateful!
This week I am again using a new image host! If you lasted through this long story, bless you....I didn't expect many would!!