The Struggle of a Child
Seeing you Happy
"Sttt!" I covered my sister's mouth with my hand. "Don't scream! I'll hear it."
"If you don't throw the balloon, I'll scream again" my sister pointed to the balloon.
"Sister promise. Brother will break it again. Hihihi!" I laughed and closed my mouth.
I who sat near my sister after a fight was very happy because our intimacy was back together. This is us after a few moments of quarreling as fast as it was we returned to good. It didn't take long for us to ease the anger.
My sister who was sitting together with me had let go of the vexation stored in her heart. Now he had smiled lightly. The burden that had made him struggle was no longer residing in his heart.
The relief seemed to make me forget the problems that had occurred. I directly broke the balloon to make my sister surprised no longer riled up at my sister's scream because she had closed her mouth tightly.
Now that my heart is at ease my troubles have now flown away. The matter that had come without asking my permission had now left without saying goodbye. Nor does it leave a scar for no reason. If I ask, I'll stay away from him. When I miss my mother I see what makes me happy.
I've been trying to avoid an imperfect story. However, the matter seemed to be an interesting story that had climbed every space into my life. How did plain white paper get torn off without a trace of pity?
My pale face has now judged the innocent self in the face of the harshness of the world. I do not know for sure the way of life. How painful it is when I must be able to finish it and walk to find a way out against the rigors of the world.
Even a sweet smile still graced the faces of both of us. I who feel better also forget to the inner piluans that took my soul. My sister had started to smile crisply looking at the doll that became a medicine for her and she threw away the balloon that was staring at her amusedly.
Push it!
The balloons that were still intact flew around the two of us by playing. The blue balloon that resembled the color of the clouds I used to stare at to see my mother made my mind float back.
My gaze was so fixed to see a balloon that flew in the wind around my head. My sacred heart smiled happily feeling my mother's presence sitting together and looking at me.
"Sir, the balloon is pretty, huh?!" I asked to see a balloon.
"Yes Brother. It's like the color of the clouds. But if it breaks we can be surprised too" my sister said.
"Yes sure?! Where there's a balloon bursting not strong." I interrupted my sister's talk.
"Yes, Brother is right. If the balloon breaks, it's strong?!" My sister was staring at the balloon that would not be silent.
"Then, what's the problem?" my many.
"Cuman one Brother. If he wants to break he asks permission first," my sister added jokingly.
"Haha !" I laughed too. "Seek permission first?! This is not a fairy tale world. Haha !" That balloon can talk" I said.
"At least he flew out. It just broke out. 'You're good, brother. So we don't hang either." My sister looked at her doll again.
My pale lips are still sweetly knotted hearing my sister's ambiguous chatter. He thought of the balloon as he wanted.
"Haha !" Laughter immediately tickled my heart.
My sister calmly said, "Yes, right? Is it true 'Kan?" It's supposed to be a balloon if he wants to break out first, not here!" My sister stared at the balloon that had been located on the floor with a lump.
"Damma!" A tickling laugh came back with me.
I saw my brother just kept shaking his head inexhaustibly hearing the words that came out straightforwardly.
"Sister laughed constantly. What I said was funny, brother?!" My sister asked confused to see me.
I'm still thinly knotted to see my sister. "So, you're funny, anyway!" I pinched my sister's fat cheek.
"Well funny from where, brother?" ask my sister who doesn't feel, like I said. "Son, tell me, if you talk. Talk is clear, brother. Her adorable little brother's time is said to be funny." my sister's lips. "The funny thing is clowns. Hihihi!" My sister laughed as if she remembered the events of that time.
"Well, that's right. So where's his fault brother? Brother is right, isn't he? Means Brother is not wrong dong, if Brother says you are funny," I said to my sister who repeatedly chimed in what I said.
With both of his cheeks that cabi red face crab stew was clearly etched. "Deehhh! Brother," my sister grumbled shyly. Cute sauce. Turning around while pouting. "Today you've embarrassed me!" his mouthpiece brought back his tough behavior.
Nothing else can make me cheerful except to see my sister's smile. Seeing him play quietly. The empty room felt like a crowd of happy people.
Since we grew up especially after we learned that our mother was gone, we began to slowly learn to be a strong child and still maintain our brotherhood.
So much as it shakes us. We must not let go of this brotherhood even if it must make one of us give in.
Giving up is not the easiest thing to do because we have to be at peace with ourselves. That's what I'm trying to make in my life right now.
I who continue to be demanded as the first child must be able to harmonize debate and brotherhood. From an early age I was taught by my father to be a child, just like that so that I would have a strong mental provision in overshadowing this life.
Therefore, it is only natural that I over-drew my attitude so that I could be an example for my sister. Just like this time when my sister was sulking so much that it even caused me a dilemma, I had to react calmly.
"Sik, you're funny, you don't mean to make fun of you. But you're good at making people laugh, especially big brother." I looked at my own sister.
"But the evil brother. Brother's time is the same with clowns. Noah! Clown's ugly hair's a curly, while my hair's not." My sister picked up a small glass that was perfectly located near us.
I asked again, not realizing that the glass was there. "Sir, where's the glass from? Brother has never seen that there is glass below" I said looking at my sister who was staring at her face in the glass.
"Huh?! My sister looked at me in surprise. "Never seen this glass?" My sister asked while looking at me.
"Yes." Yeah." I answered him directly.
"Sister, it's Dad's glass" my sister said calmly.
"Daddy's Glass?" I asked back.
"Yes" replied my sister.
"Where did you get it? If you knew the glass was on you, you'd be angry" I said.
"Dad won't be angry. I know it's 'Sister. Brother don't worry!" My sister was holding the glass even stronger.
"Now Dad won't be angry. Because Dad doesn't know the glass is gone yet," I said worried for my sister to have her return the glass immediately.
"I don't think you'll know, brother. 'And Dad today did not come to work, '" said my sister happily.
"Yes," she-he called.
"Keep why, brother?" ask sister.
"Suddenly, I'll remember this glass, how?" I asked my sister. "Dad will definitely scream loudly."
My sister immediately scratched her head in confusion at the thought of my words.
"But how could I give it back." My sister said it worriedly. "Dad must be in the room. If I go in, suddenly, my dear Mother will come, she will definitely scold me for taking this glass." My sister was getting anxious while looking at the glass held by her.
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