The Struggle of a Child
My anxiety
As much and as I could I kept trying hard to persuade my sister who was very difficult to persuade.
"Ana now we play, yuk!" take me gently. Pulling my sister's arm off the bed with my cute face.
"Engga, ah! I don't want to play with Brother, huhuhu! I just want to play with my Dottie" he said angrily.
I'm getting so weak hearing it. I became even more sad when I saw my sister who was touching with her tears again.
"Ana." called me, looking at my sister who was walking behind me and not looking at me at all. "...Brother apologized," I continued down sad mixed with guilt. "Don't cry anymore, yeah!" my door begged with an eager look at the back of my sister who was standing on her back.
Dududu!
My sister remained indifferent and indifferent as if she was thrusting her doll with the rhythm of the cradle using her hoarse voice to cry out. He still did not respond in the slightest that I revealed. She kept holding her favorite doll.
Looking at my sister, I was a little saturated so I no longer wanted to talk anything to her. As mixed with regret I immediately turned the body forgetting him who did not want to give any response. Slowly I dropped my body sitting down to the Bp boy who was still visible on the floor.
Silence mixed with sadness and regret I embrace that joint along with this tiny weak body and leg injured due to the bike I rode with carelessness. Had I been more careful this wouldn't have happened, I thought Septiani and I wouldn't have had a chance to harm me.
But it's all no use anymore to remember now all I can do is to be patient and steadfast no matter what comes whack. Life doesn't get here so, as much as possible, I have to be strong and strong.
My little sister who was offended by my attitude and speech continued to swallow as if taking a bitter pill every time. The older me is in complete control of this self. I can't force my sister to be the sister I want to be. As much and as bitter as I can I should be able to hold it tightly in a weak fist that at all times approaches and is always happy to be with me.
Until now I still sit quietly in silence while playing my favorite child Bp and I do not want to say anything, even if just mocking. He still gives me a chance to keep playing with his doll.
The gaze I deliberately turned away from him just to see him who was so ugly and seemed to think everything was in vain that I felt like I was always doing something wrong. This small, weak hand mixed with cold suddenly stopped without me realizing it in the slightest while holding the child Bp.
"Ana, your Dottie's not crying anymore?" I was pretending I didn't know. It was as if I seemed to be looking for another fight and as if I wanted to hear my sister's chatty voice.
But again, I got disappointed. I who sat in front of Bp's son who was in a room with my sister again felt sad, like an exiled person.
"Ana, you're still mad, aren't you?" my many. Turning his head to the right side looked at my sister who was still pouting. "If you're angry don't stay long" I persuaded, looking down sad at the weak fingers I played.
"Betaka! Shhtt, don't make a fuss! My Dottie wasn't asleep yet" she replied straight from behind.
Ha! I was immediately stunned to widen both eyeballs and reflexively rotate sitting looking right at my sister with a happy heart because she was already willing to make a sound.
"Ana, aren't you angry anymore?" I like to mix wonder. Seeing my sister who's been getting busy with her dolls.
"Sister, my Dottie was hot. So, I was there first," continued my sister. "Bp Brother's son is awake?" askanya and stared fixedly at the child Bp. Sit cross-legged on the bed.
"Sister misses Brother's beloved mother, huh?" asked my sister to investigate, as if putting her lips close to my ear.
I immediately fell silent after hearing my sister's question while worried to see the contact mother who had not come home. The wall clock was ringing and turning as usual. The day turns day into night.
"Ana, why did you come home so long?" I whispered to my sister who was sitting behind me.
"Where do I know, brother. That's Brother's beloved mother. Not my mother," my sister said with a ketus.
I was shocked when I heard my sister's words. I felt ashamed to tell her my worries. I quickly picked up the silent child Bp and played him back as I wanted.
"If you miss. Brother prayed to God for Brother's beloved Mother to come home," my sister's suggestion was brilliant. Suddenly clever.
The Bp boy I wanted to hold back failed after hearing my sister's good advice. The weak hand now hangs half in the free air and turns the head slowly to the right side exactly a little backward glancing at my sister even though she just wants to see the shape of her face that says that.
I'm a little happy to mix haru. "Ana, are you worried about Mom too?" I asked curiously, glancing at my sister who was on guard so that her little Dottie wouldn't wake up.
"Engga! I just feel sorry for it. Is your beloved mother saying or not?" my sister asked me question markingly, looking at me with a slightly clear mind. "If your beloved mother is a big brother, you will be sad!" he continued with a sad face, as if my sister knew the real situation was going to happen. If the father we always loved would be sad. "Surely Dad won't work," he said increasingly bitter. "If you don't work. Then, brother..., where do I get snacks from?!" continued. He looked at me as if he was thinking about it.
I immediately won myself while pulling thin lips and looking at my sister who also felt sadness, although all that was inside his head was a snack and looked towards the wall of the room then I turned my gaze back to look towards the door from behind the neatly attached curtain.
"Ana, you can't forget to make money. 'And you said you'd make a lot of money" I said. Sitting cross-legged with one leg in front of the child Bp I was playing.
"I don't know, brother," replied my sister. "Because Daddy's dear is also the beloved Mother of the Brother," my sister's regret.
Both of my hearing was sharpened to listen to him directly. My sister is still sad and continues to complain because she does not like the woman who was married by our father some time ago. Women who from childhood we have considered as surrogate mothers.
I looked straight at him again. "Ana Daddy loves both of us" I said, looking at my sister sitting with a look of hate.
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Seriate...