LOGINWhen I was a pubescent teenager, I argued with my mother almost every day. I was disrespectful and talked to her like my friend was standing in front of me. Back then it was normal for me, I didn't see any fault in myself. I always thought I was doing the right thing. I stubbornly ignored her and laughed at her inwardly when she looked at me sad and disappointed. Like I said, I always blamed her. In the evening, before going to sleep, she always came to me to apologize to me. Although I was the one who had to apologize to her. But she came every time because otherwise she could not sleep.
I would love to turn back the past and roast my former self first. But that's just as impossible as stopping time. My heart tightens every time I have to remember that it's too late to apologize. I can never again apologize to my mother, tell her how stupid I was and that in truth I couldn't sleep without her. It is too late.
I'm driving my suitcase in the car to my uncle's. Early this morning I knew for sure that it would be impossible for me to find the way alone, which is why I switched on my navigation system. Thank goodness, because if it hadn't reminded me that I had to turn right, then I would probably have noticed it after twenty kilometers. It's not that I have short-term memory or that I'm completely disoriented, but I'm so jittery and nervous every time I have to drive to my parents' grave. My mind almost turns itself off and stays on standby while my thoughts linger in memories.
The navigation system only shows five kilometers. My fingers clutch the steering wheel while my eyes are fixed on the road. How is my uncle doing? What is Dayana doing right now? What would I have done now if my parents were still there? I would probably have prepared for the ball right now.
Only three kilometers to go . Will I break down in tears again? Somebody help me get through this day!
Two kilometers . I am definitely not allowed to cry. I'm already grown up, I have to pull myself together!
One kilometer . Holy Mary, I am already crying.
“You have reached your destination,” says the voice of my navigation system.
I brake smoothly and stop in front of my uncle's house. I turn off the engine and take out the key. Furious, I throw him in the next seat and collapse. My left hand on the window arm, my right hand on my face and my feet together. I bite my lip reproachfully as more tears run down my cheek.
I wanted to be strong, I didn't want to cry anymore and now I do. I hate my weak self. I can see the outlines of the house through my veil of tears. So I grit my teeth, clench my fists and wipe my tears away. I can't put up with it now. My body must not have more power over me than my mind. So I open the car door and get out.
So many memories bounce off me at once. How I shouted at my uncle, stunned and distraught, that it wasn't true, that my parents are dead. Finally, two complete strangers, strong men grabbed me and tried to calm me down, but I beat around like a desperate animal. At some point I just couldn't scream or cry. My breath jumped, everything spun, and I passed out. Then I woke up in my mental hospital room. Another memory of standing pale in front of the house, looking around disoriented and not knowing where to go. Until my uncle finally pulled me into the house.
And now I'm standing in front of this house again, this time just not as broken as then, at least I think. Am i broken No, I'm still alive and this time I've gotten a lot stronger. Or? I mean it's already a step forward, isn't it?
Sighing, I open the trunk and take out my suitcase. Then I walk slowly towards the house. I stop in front of the door and uncertainly raise my hand to the bell. What can I expect? What will happen to me today? In order not to concern myself with further agonizing thoughts, I ring the bell quickly and wait for the door to finally open. And when the door opens, I see him again. Nothing has changed, I know that right away. Everything is still as it was before. The only thing that has really changed is his age. He now has more gray hair on his head and dark circles under his eyes.
Exactly two hundred years ago this world looked different. People were grateful to nature, but were still threatened with extinction. There were more fables and animals in the world than humans. I still remember exactly how dangerous it was to live as a person in those times. Very rarely, and if so, then with great effort and good luck, a person lived until he discovered a white hair on his head. I just grew up when the person in me died.I had a family, six siblings, three of whom died in childbirth. I was the eldest son in the family, so I was responsible for my younger siblings. We lived in a small village, fearful of a fable attack every day. Of course we knew how to protect ourselves, but we were weaker than these magical beings. They're big, way too strong, and scary, or at least they used to be to me.The village had around two hundred people, large families and a few animals for slaughter. Everyone knew everyone and we all helped each other out. From time
My eyes get wet and the temptation to just walk in that door to hug her is very great. But I pull myself together because they are right. If it's true, and it's not just some stupid dream of mine, then I might really die. So I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and turn away from them. I stand in front of the locked door and look at the handle. For the last time I turn to my parents and memorize the picture exactly."I'll see you," I say resolutely.I try to smile strongly, turn the handle and go blind by the bright, white light. Shortly after that, I lose consciousness.It seems to me that I am asleep. As if my body was sleeping, but my mind was wide awake. I can't open my eyes, but my other senses work great. Immediately I know that I am outdoors, as the air smells very fresh and sweet. Since the rustling of leaves can be heard, I can imagine I am in a forest or something like that. I can feel fresh, wet grass under my fingers. The earth still fe
My feet carry me somewhere. But where? Everything around me is black. My eyes seem to be blind, there is no difference if I keep my eyes closed or if they are open. The darkness is bothering me. I don't like it when I don't know where I'm going. I try hard to recognize something, but it is in vain. I don't see, hear or smell anything. Am I dead? Is that the path that leads me to death?Since I jumped into the picture, I've been walking around in this darkness. Running seems like an eternity to me. The fear of having to keep walking without ever reaching a destination grows. But what else can I do? Stop? No, so I keep walking, hoping that nothing will jump on me from the side because I don't know where exactly I am.But when I suddenly see a small light in the distance, my feet start to run faster. Running evolves into jogging and jogging into running. The light gets bigger and bigger, and when I suddenly see two peopl
I put the painting on the floor so that I can watch it from above. It's hard to take your eyes off it, they stick to the picture, so to speak. But not only that doesn't make me look away, the picture surrounds a dangerous and at the same time an exciting atmosphere. It feels like a story is hiding behind the picture. Without thinking long, my fingers touch the red grass. I drive back in shock when I get a small electric shock. Confused, I touch it again, this time knowing not to flinch.I can easily feel how a pressure is released and my fingers slide into the picture. Completely perplexed, I find that my entire arm is gone. Am I dreaming? Have i lost my mind In fear I pull my arm out again and place it on my chest. I look at the mysterious picture full of questions.That can not be! This is not possible! I probably just fooled myself. But no damn it, my whole arm was in it. What should I do? Tell my uncle about it? He would mark me as crazy again. Damn! I get up with
As I predicted, my uncle hides in his and I in my room. We lick our wounds and try to calm down. I don't know what he's doing. He may be lying in bed watching TV or sleeping. Personally, I've been standing in front of the broken wall mirror in the bathroom since we arrived.I didn't take off my white dress or my shoes. I just stand there and look at my swollen cheeks and my gray-green eyes. It's quiet and I've made up my mind to finally digest the death of my parents. To digest properly. I'm tired of thinking about what life would be with them every day. I have to accept what is. I have to accept the truth that you can never come back. I'm slowly starting to worry about myself. I have to focus on myself and I have to get my life under control again.But today I still allowed myself to mourn, only today on the day of her death. From tomorrow on I finally have to pull myself together and change something about myself. I need to get confident and strong again. I know it c
The egg cannot be found, only by its chosen warrior,” he explains."So that's it. And you? Don't you have anything better to do? For example, reading your magic books and memorizing a few sayings instead of coming to me, even though you could have just written a letter? ”I ask.There must be a reason Garun is here. He's just as careful as I avoid him. So what else is there that he's hiding?"The egg will soon open ashram," he says seriously.“Only when there is war,” I say and want to get up because I can no longer control myself to be in the same room as him."Can't you see that?" He asks, getting louder and more excited.“It started a long time ago. King Lennard has so many evil forces at his side, he will stand against us and there will be a lot of blood, ”Garun says with a nervous expression."And if we do, we're stronger," I say confidently and turn around."Is that us?" He asks and his