The Wrong Daughter

by Dandy Smith

They are sisters. They are aged ten and thirteen years old. They are home alone. Neither girl notices the man who watches them from the woods behind their house.

sunshine, her parents’ warnings to stay inside are blown from her mind like dandelion clocks.

Alone. That word doesn’t carry enough gravitas. There isn’t a word big enough or wide enough or sturdy enough to bear the weight of its meaning.

Wanting to please your parents is one of those universal instincts, like opening your mouth to apply mascara.

‘Sometimes, the only person worth satisfying is yourself. It’s your life, you’ve got to live it for you.’

The only thing more valuable than being loved is being known by someone. Truly known.

I know loneliness, the taste and smell and shape of it. The clawing desperation to slough it off like dead skin. Loneliness is the most harrowing kind of poverty.

‘Maybe real happiness is living the life you want, the way you want, without worrying about other people’s expectations.’

‘Don’t be afraid to play the main character in your own life. Don’t be a person that things just happen to because it’s easier than being a person who makes things happen.’

‘You can love something so much that you hold onto it too tightly and crush it to death.’

‘Some people can’t love without destroying what they care for most,’ he says.