I was three years old once. I cut my face up standing on the toilet seat to reach the mirror. They said I was trying to shave. I feel as though I wanted to be dead.
When I was three, I had a sister called bitchface. I hated her fucken guts. I had to share a room with her. This is my bedroom when I lived in Napier. My bed is the one closest to you. Every night, there was this man sitting on the edge of bitchfaces' bed, wearing nothing but his pyjama bottoms. That is all I remember. I remember trying to make him go away by thinking very hard too. It never worked. I never made him go away. I was pretty scared.
