A better world

She looked so sad. Michał now knew what "butter-like" eyes meant. Hers were just like that at that moment: large, round, and glistening, probably with tears.

"Can I come in?" she asked quietly, almost without opening her mouth.

"Of course.

" He let the girl in the doorway in. They entered the room. She sat down on the couch.

"Would you like something to drink?

" "No, I'd just like to sit here with you. And be quiet... Can I?

" "Okay," he smiled and sat down in the armchair.

They were silent. She stared at the floor. She wasn't as calm and confident as usual. She usually felt comfortable and safe in his home. She sighed a few times. She took a deep breath to say something, but at the last moment she changed her mind.

"Baśka, I can see something's wrong. Are you sure you don't want to talk?

" "I don't want to." She closed her eyes. "I want to be silent. Silence is the best medicine for everything. Inappropriate words are etched in the memory. They always hurt. And actions? Actions hurt even more! Especially those aimed directly at my face…" she fell silent.

"Father. Did he start a fight again…?" Michał asked after a moment.

"Yes, he drank again. You know, sometimes I imagine what it would be like if I had a normal, peaceful family and a father. I would live without the constant fear that he would soon return, without the shouting, the arguments, the beatings… I'd like to wake up one day and see my father shaved, in pressed clothes. He would ask, "Basieńka, are you hungry by any chance? I just made breakfast." We would talk about ordinary things – what tests I have today, what time he'll be back, and such trivial matters. Is this what an ordinary father and daughter talk about? Then he would give me a ride to school. And when he came back from work, instead of blue eyes, a hunched figure, and indistinct cries, I would see an ordinary, slightly tired, yet joyful smile. Am I really asking too much? Just a little peace, a little security. Is that too much? I don't crave a star from heaven, nor enormous success; I don't care about wealth. Why do I need it? My entire world is consumed by daily domestic quarrels. They overshadow my ordinary life. You know, I think that if all the people lost in the clutches of addiction found a way out of this terrible trap, the enormity of this world's problems would shrink to microscopic proportions. I pray every day for that to happen. But somehow it doesn't happen...

"Basia, maybe everything can't be changed at once. For so many years, your father has been sinking to the bottom, so could he suddenly rise to the surface now?

" "Maybe you're right... But then what am I supposed to do?

" "Fight," he replied after a long moment, looking into her eyes.

"But how? In what way?

" "Hope."