The Bright Colours of Misery [COMPLETED]

𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙾𝙽𝙴 -the Seide family-

On a freezing February morning 1926, at the end of a tiny crooked street in a town outside Heilbronn (Germany), two souls were thrown into the world:

Frieda and Heidi Seide. The house they were in looked as if it would collapse under the weight of all that snow, luckily it did not.

I had never been to Germany before, and I was rather intrigued by it. What a shame I discovered it when I did.

Frieda and Heidi were born to Alfred and Trudy Seide and already had two older siblings, Walter who had a sickening amount of pride that wouldn't cease growing, and Wilhemina who hated her name so much she required everyone to call her the more humble and simple Wilma.

My first meeting with them never left my memory, I could tell you every detail, every single movement, every single word.

First of all, I landed outside their house, flying over an ancient looking street covered in snow. All the roofs had differently shaped ice hats, the wind went wild as soon as I got down on the ground, whistling through every little alley of the neighbourhood. The poor brick houses were all glued together, clinging onto and leaning against one another for dear life. (It was obvious that if one house were to crumble apart, the whole street would be doomed.) The air slightly tasted of gasoline, few people were outside to fight the weather and wind. Those who were outside shivered as they walked past me, and through me.

In a way, although it obviously wasn't the most glamorous and fancy place, it had its charm.

A quick walk down the street led me to the Seide house. Equally as old and poor looking as all the others, built of brown brick and wood. The house didn't exactly stand out here on apfeltraße. Apple street. A curious name, until you learn that the whole place contained more than two dozen apple trees. The only thing that stood out from the generique brown colour, was the bright blue door and a sign that read:
Kurzwaren

In faded red letters. Which translates to haberdashery in English, chances are you don't know what that means, so i'll explain for you.

It's an old term for a shop that sells fabric, clothes, knitted hats, anything of the sort.

The shop had been passed down for generations and explained their rather unusual surname.

Seide, a word meaning silk in german

Unfortunately the family business didn't work all too well these days.

As a result, they were poor, it was no surprise to me though, the entirety of apfelstraße gave it away.

I entered the house, going through the royal blue front door without making a single sound. Us Advisers are usually rather quiet, at times I wish I could be louder, maybe then, things would have been different with Heidi.

Now, I can't get sad now. I have a story to tell, and for now it's happy, itt's filled with love and joy.

The first floor was a regular fabric shop, a few unfinished knitting projects were stored on the open wooden shelves and a few dresses hung to the ceiling. I went up the first set of stairs.

The room was wonderfully cluttered in the way that made it welcoming, the fireplace was burning bright, the whistle of the wind was only a melodious echo, the cold winter weather had no effect on this house. The old green patterned sofa remained warm and the pile of knitted blankets on top of it felt ever so welcoming. I walked up the crooked narrow wooden stairs, again making no noise at all.

There were three floors to this house.

The second had a slanted ceiling and exactly two doors. that were all too short for an adult to go through without crouching.