Black Window

Chapter 1: Waking up

It's dark here, a warm darkness. She lies over my eyes like a warm, fluffy duvet. Everything is silent. You could hear a toothpick hitting the floor. But this silence is broken when a loud noise is heard. I'm beginning to realize that this is my alarm clock, bringing me back to real life, but I don't want to open my eyes. I want to keep this warm black cloth. I reach for my alarm clock with my left hand. Feeling this in the palm of my hand, I hit the "snooze" button. The sound fades and calm returns. "Just a few more minutes," I think to myself. I roll over and feel pain in my right foot. Like a needle prick it penetrates the tip of my foot and slowly climbs up my leg. I realize I bumped into the bedpost. My dog ​​Juno is lying next to me. I put my left hand on her back. When she feels this, she crawls closer to my chest. I can feel her little snout resting on my shoulder. Her little whiskers tickle my chin.
I put my arm around her and feel her breathing slow and regular. Her warm body gives me a feeling of security. The alarm sounds again. I can't ignore him this time. I know that I have to be ready on time to catch the bus and I know that I am dependent on it. The bus is the only way to get to school. If I missed it, the next bus would be two hours later or I would have to walk about an hour to school.

I slowly lift Juno's head and pull my shoulder away from underneath.  Then I lay her head back on the gray bed sheet.  I don't want to wake her up.  I turn around.  I slowly move my tired body to the edge of the bed and peel my legs out of my covers.  I swing her over the edge of the bed.  My left foot touches the cold tiles and I get goosebumps on my shoulders.  It runs from the shoulder blades up to the neck.  It spreads over the shoulders.  Now it's getting to the back of my head too.  A short shiver runs through me.  I now put the other foot down and rub my eyes.  Colorful lights dance before my eyes.  They float artfully back and forth and move like magic.  They slowly disappear again and I open my eyes.  The space around me is dark and warm.  Only a few rays of light shine through the gaps in the curtains.  I slowly get up and trudge dazedly to the window.  I open the curtains.  The bright sun blinds my eyes and a moment later I have to close them again.  With half-closed eyes I go to the next window and open the curtains here as well.  This time I open the window and a warm breeze blows in my face.  It's mid-June and way too warm for my liking.  I now open my eyes again and look at the green meadow in front of our house.  From the first floor, I see small colorful dabs of color shimmering in the sunlight.  When I was very small, I used to play there with my father and mother.  That memory fades over time.  It's been ten years since my mother died.  Dad and I have fended for ourselves ever since.  We helped each other when we were devastated.  The pain will pass with time, but the sadness will last forever.  I turn away from the window and cross the room to the closet.  I look at the neatly sorted clothes.  I fish out a black top and reach for dark blue hot pants.  I rummage around the bottom shelf and grab a pair of socks.  I slowly close the closet and walk to the door.  It is a beautiful wooden door made of oak.  Small patterns meander through the wooden facade.  I put my hand on the shiny silver doorknob.  My gaze falls on Juno's small body one last time.  I see her chest slowly rising and falling.  I wish I could lay with her now and sleep for a few hours.  I turn the doorknob and the door opens with a rattling sound.  A dark hallway appears in front of me.  There are no windows and the only light that illuminates it comes from my room.  I slowly step through the door frame into the dimly lit hallway.  Carrying my clothes under my right arm.  I close the door behind me.  The comfortable darkness is coming back.  However, my eyes first have to get used to the sudden change in light.  I slowly grope my way forward until I can feel the bathroom doorknob on my fingertips.

I push them down and step into the brightly lit room. The large windows give more light than I could imagine. I close the door behind me and lock it. I don't want my father to come in unexpectedly. Most of the time he sleeps until I'm gone, but sometimes he just bursts in to use the restroom. I want to prevent this because he can also use the toilet on the ground floor. I drop my stuff on the floor.

Actually, I don't want to wear these, because the sweater I'm wearing, which is much too big, used to belong to my father. But after my mother died, he never wore it again because years later the sweater still smelled of her. I remember how she used to steal this sweater from my father's closet and put it on. She always lay down next to me and stroked my hair. I always buried my face in the folds of the sweater. Her smell gave me comforting security. Even today I bury my nose in the sweater and take a deep breath. I close my eyes and imagine her face. Her blue eyes, which I inherited from her, and her black hair. I want to remember every wrinkle and every blemish. Her dimples when she laughed again. I exhale and open my eyes.

The certainty of fond memories blurs and the bright light of the sun returns.  I slowly pull the shirt off.  He falls to the ground like a sack.
The deep cuts become visible.  My father doesn't know anything about it, another reason to lock the bathroom.  If he knew, he would send me to a therapist and to be honest I don't want to do that.  I slowly look down my arm.  From the crook of your arm down to your wrist.  Deep cuts mark my pale skin.  I've managed to resist the urge to harm my body for 2 days.  I quickly pull the top over and step into my pants.  Despite the warm temperatures outside, I put on a thin, black jacket.  I don't want anyone to know my little secret.

I walk to the mirror and grab the hairbrush next to me with my right hand.  I slowly comb my long blood-red locks.  I straighten my side parting.  I put the brush away.  My eyes fall on the mirror.  I look deep into my reflection's eyes.  I'm trying to find the happy little girl with curious big blue eyes that I used to be.  I see myself at 10 years old.  This little naive kid.  I secretly laugh at her, but I also pity her.  At that time she didn't know how the world really works.  I wish I could warn them, prepare them for the troubles to come, but I can't.  It's the way it is now, but I'm still ashamed of it.  I look into her big eyes again.  They don't judge me, they just look at me.  Then I see her mouth move.  I can't hear her words, but I don't need to.  I know what she's saying because I hear her words every day.  I hear them resonating in my head over and over again.  It's actually just a word, but I don't quite know what it means to me. Again it rings repeatedly through my head:

LIVE!!!!