What does it take to be really happy ... to be at peace with yourself. To be allowed. A question that Amala found to be very expensive when she looked into the lively front garden from the breakfast table, which had just been occupied. Her hand trembled as she went to the pocket of her cardigan. The piece of diagnosis inside began to crunch under her clenched hand while no one suspected anything of her three foster children.
How about if you could take for granted the happiness that you have found again after years of loneliness with all your might. Should, could ... just had to, the improvement of her own words as Amala slowly looked over from her eldest foster child Damian to her little sister Susan, whose laughter made up the main part of the scent smoke when her older brother tried to rock.
Still so young, experienced so much ... and remained so happy, with the thought of the six-year-old who had taken on her brother as an emergency mother 5 years ago when the then one and 14-year-old siblings tore from their alcoholic family and a new roof over the head.
A difficult past when she thought back to the older man's skin, which was then blue and green, who was still withdrawn and much too serious for 19 years ... but at least wore a smile every now and then instead of every attempt to touch it to beat up. For fear ... fear of being hurt again. A feeling which her last foster child knew better than any other of the three. And about which she was currently the main concern when she pulled the inconspicuous piece of paper on her jacket pocket with a stuttering sigh. White as it was and folded up would not even have revealed the beginning of a threatening change ... if the sender had not already been enough to drive a well-known fear back to her core.To lose what you had tried to protect with all your might and because of that she just didn't want to have realized the symptoms. They had laughed so hard when they looked for the frying pan and found it in the refrigerator instead of in the cupboard.
Whether she would get Alzheimer's now while the funny question of her middle man, at whose sight Amala could only bite her lip bitterly, her gaze fell to the ground. Her latest treasure, which she had also been able to bring a smile back to her lips, with a 15-year-old whom she had found a year ago looking dead in the neighboring forest. A boy whose long brown hair rivaled Susan's long blond-gray. But also another soul eaten away by loneliness which had more dead on its conscience as it could still count. Who knew hell backwards by heart and remembering the first months Amala could shake her head in disbelief even today, So angry, so aggressive, so dark the soul which was so much older as the young body through whose severe injuries it was then 15-year-old had to accept her help first.
"A little miracle ... fate when Dobbie Village is so far away from us?", Amala's whispering words from which she looked back at the cloudless sky, Hao who was on a wheelchair. Couldn't answer how Hao could have been here moments after the fight when the venue was more than 5 hours by air from her. But so carefree the weather that made her three protégés laugh so carefree, but so contrary to their feelings when she unfolded the equally carefree looking piece of findings. As before, she just skipped over the first lines, not really wanting to read its content. Just wanting to get to the last lines quickly, which brought a burning feeling to her eyes again when she knew with this content that from now on everything would only be a question of time.That he was sorry for her and he would have the request that she should contact the youth welfare office as soon as possible for their own sake because of their three foster children. Reading the diagnosis written at the same time, crumpling the paper angrily in one hand ... unable to hold tears with the other hand, repeatedly feeling guilty, slapping her upper leg down.
Why ... why now, why we, why after everything that had happened, therefore her only questions with which she felt neither the pain in her leg nor in her hand when the nails threatened to pierce through the paper into her hand.
Why you, now you of all times, her thought with which she hesitantly looked out of the corner of her eye at the boy who was completely dependent on her help and that of his two foster siblings. Immobile the legs which were held under a blanket, weak arms with which he held his hand in front of his eyes when Damian jumped the swing too tight swinging his little sister and her brother promptly got the full load of his swing back into his face. The eldest, falling on his four letters, had to laugh at the two younger ones. Even if Hao couldn't see all of this through the eyes that had gone white, blindly it had become his only way of distinguishing colors and faces from one another. But that was one of the reasons why his laughter died down first when the half-destroyed lungs asked for the vital oxygen earlier than Susan's. Her dearest protégé, with whom she shared a very special similarity, therefore reached out apologetically the thin hand to his foster brother when he had taken the swing to be able to get back on his feet. An insulted hum because of his wanting to make his only comment was that his two siblings saw through faster than he wanted to be. The youngest is even less able to hold back the grin like Damian or even Hao tried to take their brother's wheelchair to push him out of the danger zone.Damian had already shaken his head that forgiveness was sold out today and instead, full of pleasure, had cracked his fingers together.
"Mama ... Mama, Mama ... help us", the cry of the six-year-old, whose laughing undertone, mind you, drastically reduced the danger to zero. Damian ran after the two of them only half as fast as he would have known how to capture them to be able to put his little sister over his knee. A sight that Amala would have loved to keep trapped in time, this could be in her power. To just live in this moment, to be able to stop time to look at three smiling faces for hours which everyone else had already given up. One of them so much, in fact, that it should never get out of hell again. How intolerant of all of this without knowing what hell really means for a soul ... even more so for one so susceptible to suffering and pain.
The only thing that all three needed was the worthless-sounding sense of understanding. Not understanding in the form of apology or even forgiveness, but understanding in the form of the fact that they are understood for how they are inside. And not be seen as a monster, murderer or even demon ... but as a person, as a normal person like everyone else who just wants to be valued and respected.
But probably too difficult for most of those who did not know how narrow the path to the border of the former world of their two foster sons is. That sometimes it only did a single moment, a single ... an affect takes to find itself in a world that contains no joy, grace or hope.
So why now you ... Hao, the thought that Amala could only repeat again when she reluctantly pulled one of the gray strands of hair from her face behind her ears. Her look at the crumpled piece of paper on which back she had finally written down a long sought number last night.Asakura family stood above this, the eldest knew how reluctant it was to have only looked for her when she could only read the letters kura in the crushed paper and did not notice how said protégé heard her thoughts through his sister's laughter and stopped the wheelchair. Amala was startled by Damian gasping when he realized the sudden braking too late and ran into one of the wheelchair holders. Painful because of that Hao's thought with which he ducked his head in advance while Susan tried to get under the blanket long after being saved on his lap. An attempt that the brown-haired answered only by lifting the blanket when his worried look went to his foster mother.
"Mom ...?" He asked which one made Amala feel more lucky a month ago than any other day in her 65 year old life. The old woman was brought back to reality when she looked up at the three stupid-looking siblings, fearing the Hao for more than just reading her last thought. The fear for her children with her neck slipping the piece of findings back into her pocket while she got up with a playful, carefree smile to clear the table.
"Old people often float in old memories Asaha. So stop chasing like little children and help your" mom "clear the table. After all, have a little more reserves like me so hop hop hop if I may ask ... or it there is no ice cream for dessert ", which is why she quickly turns to another topic. The threat of an iron train in the beautiful summer weather probably put afterwards when she heard all three moan listlessly. So she didn't need to visualize how quickly Susan returned to the breakfast table like a gazelle at the thought of not being allowed to eat ice cream at the 25 degrees just to bring sausage and cheese back to the fridge.But Amala also hoped that the youngest would not plunder the freezer compartment.
She left her brother standing in a hurry where he had stopped the wheelchair. Her middle child stubbornly crossed her arms over her chest while Damian returned to Hao with a hand clasped in disbelief in front of his eyes to help him on the jumps. Unfortunately, the wheelchair was already so old that it had already been used by her husband who had died in the war and it wasn’t really easy to drive alone on the bumpy earthy ground.
Often she had promised Hao that she would soon be able to buy a decent one, but with her meager pension and the child benefit of the three, a goal to which she would have to save many, many months. Just because of the pride, I didn't consider accepting money for any of the four where they had struggled through all of their lives on their own. That's why she wanted to take