Lines, words, letters. [5]

Nothing meaningful, unless for you it is.


(Audio book version)

She had a little tiger on her school bag, it was just as big as her hands, maybe even smaller.

It was nothing too special, but she liked it. One day the kid sitting next to her took some scissors and cut it off. The tiger was still intact, but the band which was holding it on the bag was cut.

She cried a little and was confused, why did he do that?

Nothing special you know, but little things can hurt more than big things.

If you don‘t expect a hit, the smallest hit can have the biggest impact.

Back in the days, things were different. There was still some hope.

When she hit one of her friends with a stick in the eye by accident, the real shit started and she was only eight years old. She didn‘t want to hit her friend in the eye, but she just poked the friend with a stick a little, then the head moved, it was fast and suddenly the stick was in the eye and out again.

Tears, screaming, her friend ran away, ran home and she followed in tears.

Everything got fine, but there was a hole in the eye for a while, her friend didn‘t went blind, but started to bully her. A friend turned into a villain because of her own action. She just couldn‘t apologize because she was shocked and didn‘t even remember what happened, but for her friend this was a reason to start bullying. Her friend thought it wasn‘t an accident, or maybe just wanted to hurt her for what pain he had to go through. It wasn‘t the friend with the deep connection – at least something. But if not already before this, at least after this point she started to think, that she would break everything. And during ball games at her other friends houses she actually broke some windows and even hurt her best friend during a game. She felt as if she was a problem and turned into one, in a way.

Everything was fine… while it actually just got worse and worse.

In 5th grade her class teacher once saw her walking out of the room and said to her „You have a look as if the world is going down. Are you alright?“ And she maybe said „Yes“ if even and walked home. Her world was burning, her world was hell. What could she say to her teacher? „I think I want to die?“ Maybe she should have told her, but she didn‘t because each time she tried to talk to someone, it turned out to be wrong. She just couldn‘t talk anymore, didn‘t want to talk.

Except for some months, when she was at her mothers grandparents, she was with her mother and father, till she turned ten. After the first weeks in the new school she and her mother moved finally out again into a flat.

At some point in the elementary school time her father pushed her, so she almost hit her head on the living room table, maybe she actually got hit by it, she just remembers getting pushed and then she was on the floor and it did hurt, not only physically.

At another moment, her dad seemed like an evil monster, locked out her mother, had some kind of fire in his eyes, while she was running upstairs. Nothing happened because her mother broke the front door and somehow they both got out alive. She just thought, it could have been her end.

Her father sometimes had beaten the shit out of her, often for little things, things which weren‘t even such a problem. For example watching TV or playing with cars on the floor or whatever he found to be wrong. So she actually did more things wrong because when she was normal, when she was doing good, it was a problem. Helping with cleaning the house as an elementary school kid, her father took the swab when her mother wasn‘t around. And she was actually cleaning the kitchen floor with it, like her mother told her. When she wanted to give the cat some milk upstairs, some milk got on the stairs because she filled in the milk before she went up, her father made a drama out of it. So she didn‘t want to give the cat milk anymore, she didn‘t want to help in the house anymore, she didn‘t want to play with toys anymore, do sports, do anything. Luckily she got a computer from an older cousin who didn‘t need it anymore. At least with this, her father at least didn‘t understand how to go against. He simply didn‘t know how the computer worked, still doesn‘t no much about it to this day, but this is another story. Her computer got her way out of this world, into another world. A world of her own and she just wanted to know how it worked. But well she just had an old computer and no internet. But at least some games to play.

Pages 14 – 16 of Lines, words, letters.


Comment:

If you question big monuments and the purpose of them, maybe you haven’t done everything else yet.

In some way past, present and future are united as one, but they are still separated through the illusion of time, so that there is movement. But is the movement actually there? Is it me thinking that time passes, so that I experience everything in my on speed? Is it up to me or something else? As a part of everything, this might be a question I should reject. Not as a mistake, but as a thing which isn’t there yet. Rejecting not myself, but the thoughts to get them when the moment in time is ready. Who knows… everyone does, but everyone forgets, or do they? You can’t be sure, maybe no one is talking about it, just me because the others learned how to forget, the deleted everything to enjoy the moment. So did I, only that for me it was causing more problems in the end. This is why I have to handle this thought in the positive way. That it might just be a thought (or many thoughts related to one big thought) and it is actually not important because it isn’t all. It is way more beautiful. And I know it is, but it doesn’t want to get in my head, that pain has to be a consequence of joy. I know it, but I think, why can’t it be less? Sometimes a slap in the face is enough pain for a life time, why does there have to me so much more pain? *stops writing*

And well, my comments have not much to do with be book, but on the second thought, everything in some way has. So yeah, I guess it doesn’t matter, right? 😀

As long as you have a good time or some interesting experiences or whatever. And well, I am trying to stay strong and process everything (like literally everything, what I should find a way to stop that) and also my past. But not because I want to be stuck in it, I want to get out actually and I am trying to very hard.