What Is The Theme Of Family In 'Each Little Bird That Sings'?

I was adopted. They were so good to me that every night before I fell asleep, I prayed to grow up healthy and happy in this home. Then Mom got pregnant. I hid under my covers and cried all night, quietly packing the little suitcase I had arrived with. But they didn't send me away. They loved me even more. The day my brother was born, Mom took my hand and gently stroked my head. "Having an older sister," she said, "is why we have a younger brother." Dad lifted me above his head and spun me around laughing. "Lily is our family's lucky star — our most beloved baby!" I finally stopped dreading every single day. I thought I had truly become part of this family. Then my brother snapped my favorite Barbie in half. I pushed him. He stumbled, sat on the floor, stared for two seconds, and burst into tears. Mom panicked, shoved me aside, and pulled him into her arms, asking over and over if he was hurt. Dad came running. He grabbed my shoulders and slammed me against the wall, eyes blazing. "Is this what I raised you all these years for — to bully your brother? Believe me when I say I will send you straight back to—"

Contains strong language: My parents died, my sister died, my brothers left, and I was left to a man who thought we were pawns in his play. You know the type of people who say "it gets better" they're lying to you, because it just keeps getting worse. How the hell did I end up in a gang? Well, this is that story

When I was seven, my mother, a pianist, died of cancer. During her last moments, she held my hand. “Naomi, we both share a passion for the piano. When you grow up, you must stand on the world stage and play for me someday.” Since then, performing on the stage in Vinna had been a lifelong dream of mine. From the age of seven, I trained long and hard, practicing more than six hours a day until my fingers and wrists were bruised. At last, I gained recognition and earned a chance to audition for a spot in a top orchestra at twenty-one. If I succeeded, I would perform at Vinna’s New Year’s Concert the following week. However, my father brought home a sister, only six months younger than me. She became the apple of my father’s eye, and my piano room was turned into her dance studio. My brothers adored her, always personally making sure she got to school and came home safe and sound. Even my boyfriend, whom I had known all my childhood, was dazzled by her smile. His eyes often stuck on her. On the day of my audition, he ditched me on an overpass just to take her to her dance class. “Naomi, all you’re missing out on is a chance to realize your dream, but Charlotte can’t be late. “Don’t be such a drama queen. I’ll take you once I drop her off.” As the car sped away, I calmly took out my phone and broke up with Maddox over text. My mother was right. Boys only got in the way of dreams.

My sister is diagnosed with leukemia after a medical checkup at the hospital where I work. My bone marrow is a match for her. Out of curiosity, I tell my family I'm the one who's sick. They vehemently oppose to her donating her bone marrow to me. "A bone marrow donation is risky! We can't let your sister put herself in danger." "Don't drag your sister into this just because you're sick. Everyone's life and death is fated—you have to accept your destiny." My sister also refuses to help me, brushing me off with the excuse that she's preparing to conceive. My relationship with my family is strained, so their behavior thoroughly destroys it. When I realize this, I leave the diagnosis report behind and walk out on them.

Three days after the SAT scores were released, I came across a post asking for advice. [Both my older and younger sons are going to Northbridge for college. How should I split their living expenses so it's fair?] The comments were almost unanimous. [Why is this even a question? They're both your kids. Give them the same amount. That's the fairest way to do things.] I was about to scroll past when the newest top comment caught my eye. The profile picture belonged to my sister. [Don't judge when you don't know the whole story.] [I'm their older sister, so let me be honest. You can't raise two boys the same way.] [The older one is pretty average-looking, and he's awkward and quiet. Even if you gave him money, he wouldn't know what to spend it on. Meanwhile, the younger one is outgoing and handsome, with great style. One pair of his limited-edition shoes costs over $2,000.] [If you ask me, the older one should get $800, and the younger one should get $8,000. Each child should get the amount they need.] Beneath her comment was a reply from my childhood best friend, Whitney Jones. [Couldn't have said it better myself!] [Besides, we'll all be in Northbridge anyway. We can keep your younger brother company, so your mom won't have to worry about him back home.] Staring at the screen, I suddenly laughed until tears blurred my vision. When we were kids, we would play hide-and-seek. All of them would sneak off together, hand in hand, leaving me alone in the dark attic, covering my eyes and counting. Back then, I honestly believed that if I searched hard enough, I would eventually find them and become part of their little world. However, every time I opened my eyes, they had already slipped away with my younger brother, leaving to buy ice cream without me. It turned out nothing had changed since then. They were still walking side by side toward the bright lights of Northbridge, while I remained nothing more than an afterthought, someone brought along just for the sake of the picture. I deleted every university in Northbridge from my list and replaced them with schools in the far south, more than a thousand miles from home. I was done playing the loyal supporting character in someone else's fairy tale. Their game could go on without me.

In Westbush close there is few people, they all know each other and it has always been relatively quiet. However, a couple years ago everything changed, disappearances and sudden deaths started occurring. Soon it was Eleanor's family, and a mistake was all that was needed to make the youngest one their next victim. A hard time followed, a lot of pain, guilty and hatred, until she came back as a complete different person, almost as a complete different being.