The Struggle of a Child
Take a drink with a small stool
"From this father's son often said a lie. By the way who's lying?" asked my dad curiously with a flat face.
The deg!
I panicked more and more slowly came down from my father's lap. "Dad, I want a drink" I said. Walking into the kitchen took a drink that was a little high located on the table next to the stove.
"Liyan, can you take it?" my father shouted asking. Stopped my step.
"Could Dad," I answered briefly. Walking back around the body took a glass hanging on a fairly high plate rack.
The kreeek!
Plaque!
I also put a bench located in the corner of the wall precisely adjacent to the plate rack. I put the small stool on the floor right in front of the plate shelf hanging from the glass there. Even the little stool I climbed with a little tiptoe took a hanging glass.
The kreeek!
Baugh's!
I put the stool back into place by holding the glass in my left hand.
"Liyan, if you can't. Tell Daddy. Let me get you !" scream my father from the front.
"I can Dad" I replied. A quick look at my father from the middle door between the living room and the kitchen. He hung a glass in the air and showed it to my father.
"Father afraid you're falling, son," cried my father again worried.
Srprr!
I poured the water into the glass after my cold little hand pulled the teapot a little deep into the table.
Gluey! Gluey! Gluey!
Fresh drinking water was also I gulp soaked my pale lips and throat that had been dry from earlier, as a result of enduring fear and bitterly imagining my brother who suddenly one time keceplosan.
My weakened little body trembled at the sight of my father's face that flashed in the drinking water I gulped down.
The deg!
I was a little depressed and in shock as the aging face was haunting. Cold sweat as if pouring profusely wet the temples and both cheeks.
I who drank water while immersing these pale lips felt stiff and began to be heavy to sip water until it ran out. I thought as if there was nothing left for me, if my father knew I was sick again.
My breathing grew even more congested when these ears heard my father and sister talk back.
"Dad, I won't lie anymore from now on" said my sister who kept saying. "Because I'm afraid of Dad's sins. If we lie we go to hell, don't you Dad?" ask my sister in her innocent voice.
Gluey!
The water left in the throat instantly flowed roughly. Followed by both eyeballs look at the glass I was holding as if it was shaking.
"Yes Nak. If we lie, we go to hell. Because we have sinned. Well, everyone can't lie if he doesn't want to go to hell" my father said.
"IIiiiih Daddy spooky. I'm afraid of going to hell. Our teacher said, Father in hell has a lot of fire" my sister continued, increasingly disturbing my soul that holds a glass. As if he was saying that on purpose, I thought.
"Yes Nak. Hell is a lot of fire and it is very dark. We can't sleep there" continued my father with a happy heart.
The deg!
My heart was weakened and there was no longer any power to pump blood. This tiny little hand began to complain about holding a glass.
Plaque!
I also reflexively put down the glass while neutralizing myself. The look of panic and anxiety gradually prevented him from looking calm.
Huh!
Many times my breath was blown into the air just to find tranquility. Behind this little back I kept hearing the chatter of his father and son.
"Dad, if we go to hell. We're on fire or not, Dad?" ask my sister to know.
Shock and depression is what's attacking me right now. I can't do anything anymore. Even persuading my sister I can no longer.
My hopes are running low. Both eyes pusar I turned to the right side right in the direction of my father and sister who were busy talking about sin and hell.
"Dad if we lied. Daddy's angry no ?" ask my sister like a grown-up.
I saw my father for a moment silent. "Son, I don't want to have a Son who likes to lie" he replied directly.
The deg!
My eyes reflexively fall looking at the floor. The sad look on my father's face when he said that seemed to slice my little heart. I'm getting mixed up in deep guilt because I lied today.
I slowly walked on the sidelines of my sister's conversation again with my father.
"Dad if I lied. You forgive me, don't you, Dad?" ask my sister in a tone of voice.
"Dad will definitely use you two if you're wrong. But... ." My father's quiet.
"But what Dad," continued my sister.
"Must pass the punishment first" said my father.
"Punished again Father?" ask my sister astonished. "Dad why was the law again" he refused with protest. "If I'm not the one lying, I'm being punished too!" the blinds don't fall.
Gluey!
I was still gulping down behind the wall that was the separation between me and my sister. A few questions and answers sounded simple in my heart that blamed each other. The clothes I was wearing slightly I pulled covered half of this pale face.
"Ana, why are you afraid of the law? If you're not wrong, why should you be afraid?" my father asked mixed with astonished voices.
I dragged this slanted body a little peek at my father and sister from behind the wall. The clothes that slightly covered this face grew weaker after seeing my father's face reddened if he knew his son was lying.
"Dad I never lied," my sister panicked.
"Eat him Dad said, Son. If you never lie. Why are you afraid of that?" ask my dad to get serious.
"Yes Dad" said my sister a little limp.
This tiny body that was getting down was trembling behind the kitchen wall. I'm getting anxious about dragging this tiny body down and barking on the floor.
The glass that had refreshed the throat was now seen fluttering on the stove table. The voices of my father and sister grew louder.
" Daddy actually... ." My sister was quiet for a few minutes. I who heard it closed my eyes even more tightly. "Actually Dad... ." My sister kept quiet again.
"What exactly is my son?" asked my father, curious.
I squeezed my clothes more and more and bit it so that it covered my face a little firmly.
"Actually Brother is sick Well," said my sister directly.
The deg!
I'm getting weaker. My heart stopped squeezing the cold fingers trying to survive in the middle of a tiny, cold body. I was sitting quietly behind the kitchen wall.
"Your brother is sick, son?!" ask my dad to panic.
The deg!
I grew pale and my heart stopped. Widened eyeballs are not careless.
"Yes Dad," said my sister lowering her voice. " Sister is sick," he continued softly.
.
.
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Seriate...