A comp. in my school. Topic: A moment of Epiphany.

Part One
Christiana’s Diary

It had happened quite a while ago. As an estimate, I should perhaps say… half a year has passed. How could I forget? Some memories are forbidden to be forgotten, and this particular one was such. Funny it should disturb me, though. After all, I have never been close to my parents. One could catch a glimpse of Father once in a blue moon… As for my Mother, a new metaphor must be created to do justice for her absence. My Father, you see, was a renowned doctor. He was too busy saving lives, opposed to spending time with his daughter. As for my Mother, she was a typical British doctor’s wife… hosting charity events all day long. My Father’s understandable absence conquered my Mother’s wish to be noticed, and I guess that rooted my partial affection towards my parents.
That is why, on that auspicious night, I was fairly shocked to hear not only my Father’s voice, but also my Mother’s too at our residence. I stole a glance at my sleeping governess and swiftly made my way through our dim domicile. My abode is exceedingly behemoth; it was quite undemanding for me to overhear their conversation. They made my work easier by shouting at each other…
As I heard words and insults rain, I felt a shower of emotions engulf me. It took me some time to digest the truth behind it. But when I did, it gave faultless explanations to my parent’s dearth of affection, my Mother’s aloofness, and my Father’s guilt. Everything fit in unmistakably. I actually found it quite amusing, my Father having an affair for the past few years. Surprising my own self, I realized the emotion that I was overcome with was not grief, but happiness. I had a baby brother.
Within minutes I had become his older and shielding loving sister, the only obstacle that lay now was finding him. If only I could have stayed longer, I would have obtained more information about him. In fear of my blasted governess, I rushed back to my room and pretended to be asleep. Of course, I was not. I was, mentally, grooming and feeding my darling younger brother. Only his name did I catch… Edward.
Six months from that astonishing day, I find myself getting excited. I have finally found him now…in an orphanage three kilometers from here. My parents had no objections in his coming here. Of course, I did not provide an option. He does not know his older sister will come today, to righteously obtain him. I have his room (and my heart) prepared. Oh, I must go now. My carriage has come.

Part Two
Edward’s Diary

I aint supposed to be writ ng this. I mean, I don’t got no time to mess around. I’m supposed to be working now. Cleaning Missy’s stables. Ol’ Tiffany making me write, because she proud for me. She don’t want me to forget how to write, you see. I’m the only boy in our orphanage who can write. I remember being taught by my Mama, though. It takes me time to write, but I do it. For Tiffany… when my Mama died, I was sent thrashing down to this place. Tiffany helped me survive. Tiffany’s my quarter’s matron. She’s fixing us our rations of bread, and stuff like that. If we work bad, we don’t get no bread. We work good, we get to lie on a bed. There is four beds in our quarter, but seven kids. Tiffany let me lie on the bed for a whole, full month, you know. I write, she sees, and gets happy.
I like Tiffany, but she aint my Mama. She still makes us work for food, she still reports us to Missy if we be bad. It is getting me so angry, wasting time to write. I aint finished with my share of work yet, but I need to write. I get an extra ration of bread if I write and show it to Tiffany.
My Mama would give me presents for writing, too. But I was seven, back then. That’s when my Mama fell ill, and went away. I used to cry all day, and not work. Here, you not working, you get no food. Then I getting so hungry, I started working. Then, I had no more time to miss my Mama, you see. I’m used to it, now. I still missing my Mama, but it’s all right. She used to look out the window and cry, to god knows where. Maybe it was to Papa. When I asked her where my Papa was, she telling me Papa aint here with us no more. After I came here, one day, I aint doing my work good. Missy looking at me angrily, and saying I was dirty bastard. I didn’t know what it was then, but now I’m fifteen. I know what that means. Maybe that’s what Ma meant by Papa aint here with us. He was with another Miss. Now I’m looking outta the window, in our dirty room. We got three quarters, here. We all divided by our age. Each quarter has one room, my quarter having the biggest room. We all are fifteen or sixteen years, in my quarter. Tiffany told me Eddie, you got to see someone at half past four, ‘noon. Now it’s four, I got to wash up, comb my hair (we aint got no combs, I’m to use Tiff’s) and put my best dress on. Maybe it’s Missy. She might be wanting to put me down again. i

Part Three
Edward’s Diary (Ms. Christiana’s writing)

I feel completely synchronized with the fresh and sweet air of my garden, the magnificent mountains reaching out into the sky, the lovely splendor of the river gushing somewhere in close proximity. I just finished reading his literally hilarious diary. Above all, what captures me is my handsome brother’s sweet face, his casual thinking, his genuine love for me. We both have discovered we can pass hours together without realizing the hurried clock… simply arguing over something. His perspective is so… fresh and idiosyncratic. Like the day before yesterday, Edward and I had a dispute over how I shall address him. He believes I should lower my utterly boring formalities, and call him Eddie. I wish for him, as the heir of this house, to be addressed Sir Edward. Then yesterday… he let my Transylvanian breed lovebirds go free. I was absolutely mortified at the beginning, but could not remain to be angry with him for more than a moment. He, in turn, claimed it was atrocious for me to cage such lovely things. He grudgingly nudged me, claiming now I had him, and would not require those birds. I find an automatic smile now, on my face, as I feel his soft, comforting hair tousle against me with harmony to the wind as he lays his head on my lap.

He is mine, for I am his. I have discovered true, pure and untainted love. I know I shall cherish this moment, through out my life…

…For this is my moment of epiphany.