Why sir?

(the ROOTLESS - One Day, miwa - chAngE, miwa - I don't cry anymore)

A little what-if-one shot ..

The idea came to me spontaneously while doing the dishes when One Day came along.

From the middle of the FF I cried while writing because this is all from my point of view ...

I hope you like it and I would be happy about clerks!

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It was Sunday morning and I was agonizing.

I decided to go to church today.

I went very seldom, much to the chagrin of my friends, who would like to see me there more often, but yesterday I had made up my mind to go today.

I don't know why, while doing the dishes the thought came to me and I thought that I haven't been for a long time, it wouldn't hurt to go today.

Reluctantly, since I had to get up so early, I got dressed, ate breakfast and then sat on my bike. It was 9:15 a.m. and the service would start in a quarter of an hour.

After five minutes I was there, locked my bike and quickly found my friends in the hall.

The service was over in no time. The worship in particular had carried everyone away today, because, unlike usual, they had also played fast pieces.

We walked slowly down the stairs, of course talking the whole time.

My self-appointed twin sister and her self-appointed daughter went over to the bookstore to see if he had something new. In contrast to normal business, it was allowed to be open on Sundays as part of the community.

Me and my twin sister had come back to the subject of hair color. Their roots were now ten centimeters long. I had told her a long time ago that she should finally come to my mother, who was a qualified hairdresser, because we always had our hair color there.

I had tinted my hair more often than she did, but my mother had already been able to dye my hair down to its natural color after she had to dye it lightest light blonde to get the last red tinge out.

I've had a lot of hair colors over the past year. Purple, also known as 'dark cherry', then didn't wash the color out properly and because of that and because I've always wanted black hair, even though I was blonde, it turned out to be 'black-brown'. In the summer I went to the hairdresser's with my twin, this one time I didn't go to my mother's to get the same haircut.

Afterwards my mother was allowed to mend what she just acknowledged with a laugh. Even today she tells the story to acquaintances.

Then, shortly before summer camp, I had colored it red.

And sometime in autumn my mom had to dye them back, which was a lot of effort.

Now it was my twin's turn.

We quickly arranged that she could come home with me, since we were both there by bike, that wasn't a problem either.After she had her mother's permission, we drove off. Leisurely side by side, we took the longer route down along the river.

The sun was shining on us and we laughed at inside jokes from school.

When we finally got to my street, the blow hit me. There were several fire brigades and police cars in front of my house and the house was on fire.

I accelerated, even though the way up was quite steep, with my twin sister right behind me.

When I got to the house, I first threw my bike down and searched the crowd outside for my family.

I didn't find it.

I ran to the nearest police officer and asked him where the family on the second floor was.

He told me that the fire started very suddenly, due to a short circuit in a toaster, and that no one who was still in the house at the time had a chance to escape.

My eyes were already burning. But I fought against it.

Who was among the victims. Who was probably already dead? I then asked.

He said that in the meantime the fire brigade was trying to get through to the possible survivors. I have to wait and see what they would say.

When, I asked next. I wanted to know when the fire broke out.

He answered me very vaguely. He said it broke out between half past nine and ten.

I was incredibly lucky. If I hadn't gone to church today, I would still be in there.

I exchanged a look with my twin, who was now standing next to me.

She saw how much it gnawed at me that my family could be injured or even dead and encouraged me.

God wouldn't let that happen, she said confidently. You would be standing in front of me right away.

Minutes passed, hours passed.

Hope slowly faded, my twin sister stood next to me the whole time and tried to distract me, but it didn't help much, my thoughts kept floating back to my family.

My mother promised me last week that she would sew with me today, a dress for a special occasion. I had bought the fabric a long time ago.

Yesterday I reminded her when she was just about to throw away a golden cloak that she had once made for me as a carnival costume, made to measure, because it was torn. I had made her promise that she would sew a black one for me next carnival as a replacement.

It had been three hours since I got home, the church bells rang three.

Suddenly the policeman I interviewed came up to me.

He was sorry, he had said pityingly, but there were no survivors.

At that moment a world collapsed.

My world.

My annoying little brother who kept hugging me and spending way too much time on his laptop.My big brother, who was almost never there, who was at home today for a change.

My father, who was always nagging and who, for once, had slept in today.

My dear mother, who made me feel the most beautiful in the world and loved me more than anything.

Path.

They were all gone.

I wouldn't see her again until my journey was over.

Only when I died too.

Or the end of the world had come.

They left without me.

Left me behind

Alone.

What should i do now?

I did not know it.

Tears rolled down my cheeks. I couldn't hold it back anymore.

I had lost everything.

Everything that was so common to me this morning.

This morning there were only worries that I still had to study for the German exam. And French vocabulary.

I was looking forward to the vacation week in Ticino. With my twin and her daughter.

I had planned to spend the first week of the spring break getting my high school diploma finally rolling. Also to practice my music-Matura-foreplay pieces. To improve my singing technique.

To continue sewing my dress with my mother.

And now it was no longer possible.

The people who knew me best, who had backed me in elementary school when I was bullied, were no longer there.

My twin sister hugged me. I could not anymore. I fell on my knees.

What should i do now?

Where should i go

How am I supposed to go on living without my family?

Why did God do this to me?

But why?

What had I done wrong that I deserved this?

I only heard marginally that my twin called her mother and she picked us up.

I was allowed to stay with them for now. Tomorrow they would see what became of me.

My twin took me to the car while her mother cleared this with the police.

I felt infinitely empty.

As if everything had been torn from me except the pain.

All emotion was gone.

Only the pain was left and that too slowly dulled.

I got apathetic.

Got almost nothing more. Cut me off from the world.

But it didn't hurt anymore.

I was happy in my fantasy world where my family still lived.

I slept at night, nightmares haunted me. Suddenly the pain was there again.

I woke up in the middle of the night.

Tears ran down my cheeks again. I sobbed softly.

I didn't want to wake my twin who was sleeping next to me and quietly walked out of the room into the living room.

All the lights were out, but I didn't mind.

I sat down on the sofa and let the tears run free.

It went on like this until morning came.

My tears ran dry after a while. I simply didn't have any more to forget.Only my red eyes still showed that I had been crying.

After they woke up, my twin and her family looked after me with concern.

Her mother called the school that we wouldn't show up today because of the fire.

She also called her work and also reported that she would not come.

Then she called the police. I still have to give testimony. And then they would see what happens to me.

They took me to the police and stayed around the whole time.

It was comforting, but it kept reminding me that my family was no longer there.

If I were alone, I could imagine myself telling the police a big fat lie.

But then there were their pitying looks that made it clear to me that my parents and brothers were really no longer alive.

I was told to stay in the waiting room while they called the authorities to see me.

My brother's girlfriend was sitting there.

I saw her tearful eyes.

She was like me. But she still had a family to comfort her.

I sat down next to her and silently gave her consolation.

It was comforting to know that you were not alone with your feelings.

When I was called again, she gave me a slip of paper with her cell phone number. I looked at her gratefully and then answered the call.

The responsible officer of the youth welfare office had meanwhile arrived.

It was strange. I was 17 by now. I would be of legal age in a few months. And yet the question remained of who would become my guardian.

My parents had chosen two godmothers for me. The reason for the second was that the first had an emotional low after the divorce and I had very rarely seen her again.

In the meantime, however, she had recovered and spent time with me from time to time.

I hadn't seen my other godmother for over two years. She had moved, so we couldn't visit her that often anymore.

They were both called and asked to come over.

Shocked by what had happened, they both came here as quickly as possible.