Decision

Silence reigned in the kitchen. The young man sat at the table, his face buried in his hands. His mother placed a bowl of soup in front of him, then sat down in the chair opposite him. She waited.

They both sat motionless in the dingy kitchen of the farmhouse. The only sounds were the buzzing of flies and the barking of a dog.

The woman was old. She wore a flowered dressing gown of poor cleanliness, and her dark, wrinkled skin and worn-out hands spoke volumes about her life and work.

The man was clearly distraught. He was at war with himself. He couldn't bring himself to speak to his mother. Finally, without even looking at the plate of soup, he did what he had been waiting to do for so long.

"We have to move out of here. We'll rent an apartment in the city. It'll be better that way," he said in a quiet, muffled voice.

The woman stared at him for a long moment, wide-eyed. Her son's words barely registered.

"It's because of her. Because of that crazy woman," she said, her voice sharp as a razor.

The boy took it like a whiplash. Choosing between the two most important women in his life was difficult. However, he decided he had to take care of his wife. Help her. He knew it would hurt, but his mother's words still stung.

"I won't let that happen. You'll take my grandson and leave him to waste. You'll leave the family home to your old mother and your drunken brother. People in the village are already pointing fingers at me. And it's all because of her. They laugh in my face that I have a crazy daughter-in-law and that her children will be the same, that the economy will collapse," she said in an authoritative tone.

The boy clenched his fists and hid them under the table. He knew he was a man and that he had to get his way.

But his mother sensed his dilemmas and hit his most vulnerable points with her words. Without a shred of sympathy, or even pity, she continued her monologue.

"And on top of that, she wanted to kill herself! It would have been better if she had died." Then you could find yourself a normal girl who would bear you sons and work in the fields.

" "Stop it, Mom," he finally interrupted. "Don't say that. She's my wife, and in church I swore before God that in sickness and in health I wouldn't abandon her. Remember?"

His mother lowered her eyes and pondered for a moment. She knew she couldn't argue with her son on this matter. She was an old woman, not to mention a devotee, for whom the Church was paramount. In her rustic way, faith was paramount to her.

The boy knew that being reminded of the church wedding every time softened her somewhat.

He needed some time to gather his thoughts. His wife was now asleep upstairs. He brought her home from the hospital and put her to bed. She was weak and lost in spirit.

A few days ago, she swallowed an entire bottle of medication. Doctors had difficulty reviving her. It was the first time it had happened. But her earlier attacks…

He didn't want to think about it. He preferred to keep in mind the image of the young, beautiful, and laughing girl he'd met a few years ago. He didn't know she was sick. Neither did she. It started after their wedding.

The doctor's words echoed in his ears for a long time. Schizophrenia. To him, it was the equivalent of AIDS or cancer. A simple death sentence.

He was afraid. He knew he was hurting her, but he couldn't approach her. Finally, he secretly went to the doctor and asked if it was possible to live with it. He also began reading pamphlets and books about the disease. It calmed him down.

When she gave birth, standing over his crib, he repeated like a spell, "twenty percent, twenty percent..." That was his son's chance of inheriting his mother's disease.

As time went on, he became increasingly worried about his wife. Where they lived, there was no doctor who could help her. Here, there was no one who would even offer her a hand. People treated her like a leper.

The village was small, and everyone knew everything. Ironically, they didn't understand the nature of this disease. They thought it was contagious, like the flu.

At first, he tried to explain, to convince, but eventually he realized that he would never even assuage the ingrained aversion to the mentally ill in these people.

"How do you imagine that?" the old woman broke the silence. "You'll leave her home alone with the child? She doesn't even recognize him sometimes. She doesn't remember to feed him, to wash him, to clothe him. You'll waste the child. Remember my words."

The boy couldn't deny it. However, he saw that this was only a fraction of the truth. Such situations occurred rarely, and only during the worst periods, when his wife lost touch with her surroundings.

In truth, her son was her greatest treasure in the world. She protected him from every danger. Both real and imagined.

Shortly after giving birth, she began to experience further disturbing symptoms. Panic at times prevented her from functioning. She focused all her attention on her child and repeated that she had to protect it.

With a breaking voice, she begged her husband to take her away, because in that house she and the child were in great danger.

They both endured the acute phases of the illness. He knew he had to be strong and ready for anything. At night, she would jump out of bed and run away. She said she heard footsteps, rustles, whispers that they would come and take her child. He had to search for her and protect her from the villagers, from their mockery.

Over time, he stopped sleeping well. At night, he watched over his wife. He watched over her. When remission came, he remained alert. Every noise roused him from sleep, every cry put him on full alert.

This made all the uninterrupted moments they spent together much more precious and beautiful. They enjoyed life like a couple of teenagers.

However, schizophrenia wouldn't let them forget about itself. Anxiety returned, numbness… His wife, the source of danger, personified her mother-in-law. This wasn't unfounded. The old woman hated her and didn't accept her. At every step, she made her feel she would never treat her like a normal person, or like a member of the family.

"You should have her committed to an institution," the woman repeated, looking at her son.

"No," his voice sounded surprisingly strong for the first time. "I love her, and nothing will change that. Besides, I've already made my decision." Nothing will improve her condition here, especially if you lock her in her room," he said reproachfully and bitterly.

"She's dangerous!" the woman tried to defend her actions. "She says she hears voices, that I want to kill her!

" "No, Mom, it's not her fault, it's yours," he said, his voice cold and still full of bitterness. "She's good, and I won't let you hurt her any further.

" "But I want what's best. Good for you. You're only twenty-six. Don't waste your life. What will happen to the economy?"

The economy was his curse. His in-laws, already aware of their daughter's illness and seeing how badly she was doing in the countryside, offered to take them in. They had a large three-room apartment near the city center. However, he refused. He knew he had to take care of his father's estate.

He realized his mistake too late. He forced his wife into an environment that rejected her. At first, it was fine. She worked part-time in the city, commuted alone, and tried to help around the house.

When she became pregnant, she lost her job. She also lost contact with people, because here in the village, no one would talk to her. After that, things only got worse.

He knew perfectly well that if they moved away, her mental state wouldn't be as bad as it was now. He blamed himself, and the thought of escaping this place was his only hope, even though he knew schizophrenia had its own rules.

Only her suicide attempt unleashed long-suppressed reserves of energy and determination. Once, he had sacrificed his wife for the sake of the farm, now he was sacrificing everything for his wife. He had made his decision. Nothing could stop him now.

"I'm sorry, Mom. Everything's already taken care of. We'll move out by the end of the week," he said, rising from the table.

The old woman was surprised by his words. She thought it would be just another clumsy attempt, that he was trying to scare her again by leaving. After all, they'd had arguments before, and words that shouldn't be thrown around.

She didn't believe her son was capable of such a thing, of taking a stand against his own mother. She regretted that her husband was already dead. He would be able to talk some sense into him. After all, she'd devoted her entire life to the economy, and now, in the name of foolish love for a mad woman, everything was about to fall apart.

"You won't get anything worse from me. Not now, not after my death," she said angrily at his retreating back.

He stopped, but after a moment, continued toward the stairs to the second floor. He endured another blow of the whip, but he didn't hide the pain. Tears flowed calmly down his cheeks. He couldn't back down now.

He hadn't discussed all this with his wife yet. He hadn't wanted to be in the hospital. When he'd taken her away, she'd been completely lost. She stared blankly at the road and didn't say a word. He knew she didn't want to go home. To a home like that.

Now he would sit beside her. He would touch her beautiful black hair, take her hand, and wait for her to wake up. In his mind's eye, he saw her smiling at him. It was with that smile that he had fallen in love with a few years ago.

Then he would kiss her gently on the lips and tell her everything. She wouldn't have to worry anymore. Not for herself, nor for her son.

The apartment was rented, just waiting for them to move in. He knew he had to provide his wife and child with the best possible care. He thoroughly researched the area. Nearby, there was a nursery, a preschool, and a mental health clinic.

Her parents had helped him. They promised to contribute to the apartment and visit them as often as possible. They said they would try to find her a job.

Looking at his wife, he smiled. He knew everything would be alright now. She'll be provided with therapy, she'll live among people who aren't afraid of her illness, she'll finally stop living with schizophrenia and start living with it.

And he? He'll finally be at peace and happy, knowing he made the right decision and did everything for the woman he loves.