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The heat had subsided quite a bit from the afternoon scorcher we had tried to endure by jumping into the amazingly freezing water in the lake. I was now feeling chills and my skin had Goosebumps but at that time, I did not care. I was rejoicing in the fact that this was only the first day of a month long vacation. I never wanted it to end, nor miss a single precious moment; Goosebumps included.

Michael threw a towel at me and ordered me to dry myself and follow him to gather firewood for tonight's fire. No sooner had he thrown me the towel, I was following in his heels ready to experience a new adventure in the far away woods, where I envisioned the most wonderful creatures ready to be spotted and drawn clumsily in my travel diary later on in the evening.

As soon as I jumped to follow Michael, Sammy and Buzz-Buzz came running after us, much to Michael's dismay and resignation indicated by his heading towards the cooler and placing 2 additional water bottles in his backpack. As it happens regularly, back then and now, I had the opportunity to admire how methodical and responsible Michael has always been. At the time he was 16 and my only brother, I truly adored him. He was the careful one, perhaps out of necessity to strike a balance between the two impulsive sisters; Sammy, who was only 12 and me, the middle child at 13

My names is Christina, but have always been called Trina and the name has stuck to the point that I never fill any paperwork with my full name. I am telling you this because it is important for me to remember what my real name is and sometimes, well, sometimes, I just forget that because everything has always been a certain way does not mean that's the full story or even the truth of things.

I sensed that Michael thought it would be easier to gather wood in relative quiet with just one of us, but Sammy and I were only 11 months apart and thought of each other as Siamese twins. We rarely went anywhere without each other, we shared the same bedroom at home by choice as well as our clothes. There was no 'yours' or 'mine', only 'ours'. We shared everything and we liked it that way. Poor Michael! He had become part of the category of 'ours' along with Buzz-Buzz, our 4 year old German Sheppard. He had no choice but to surrender to the fact that we loved him blindly and possessively. He was 'ours'.

Mom sat her book down long enough to smile and wave good bye and dad handed us a burlap sack each to put in whatever wood we would find. He ruffled

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