aga11

They went to his house. He was free to do so. He could invite whomever he wanted, they could stay with him overnight, dine with him, even live with him. This, too, was a form of love his parents showed him. A few square meters of space for friends. The stakes weren't high, let alone excessive. A few square meters instead of love. No, this was love. That's how his parents understood it. Except that between the concept of love in his eyes and the eyes of his parents, there was a huge chasm. And neither of them ever tried to bridge it. Both sides were slowly sliding. Sliding towards the bottom of the abyss. The abyss is called "love."

A residential neighborhood, a car in front, a swimming pool behind the house, and a son. A son who returns from the back of the house stoned. Normality. Here, it's normal. Besides, what in this world isn't normal? What can't you come to terms with? Everything. We pass by indifferently. That's how it was, is, and will be. Forever. That's how a person is. And their reality. The gray, cruel reality of a 21st-century person.

They went to his room. He lived in the attic. The room was large and spacious, with blue sky visible through the windows because they were in the roof. Paweł left for a moment. He entered the room with a tiny bundle in his hand. Karinka was sleeping in a pink swaddle. He was the one who chose the name. The parents had no idea. Or maybe they didn't want to. Maybe they simply didn't want to have anything to do with this child. Of course, except that he had to look good. When guests came... Then, it didn't matter. Then they stopped caring. About her, about him. About everything. What mattered was the wine and the appetizers. served for dinner...

The child was so small and innocent that Aga was afraid to take her in her arms. She overcame her fear. The child stirred restlessly and looked at her with its brown eyes. In her eyes, there was only trust, boundless trust for everyone. Aga looked at Paweł. In that moment, they decided they wouldn't let Karinka be hurt, wouldn't let that terrible longing, that longing for love, show in her eyes. She hugged her, pouring as much love into that gesture as she could. She was seventeen years old, with no experience in dealing with such children, yet she loved her and wasn't afraid to care for her. She simply wanted to love her; it came from the depths of her heart. These young people, damaged and abused by life, decided they would create a home, the dream home they had dreamed of since their earliest childhood. They would create a home for this lonely little creature who couldn't count on anyone. She had no walls. She had a nanny. For a thousand złoty a month. They would create a home for her. They both wanted it. Yes... Mom, dad, and a child. A brother to replace a father. It's beautiful. Beautiful when a father is dead, but tragic when a father forgets, forgets that he has a home and responsibilities. That he has a daughter. That he is responsible for what belongs to him. A friend from the back of the house instead of a mother. No experience at home, but with vast life experience. Well, wonderful ideals to emulate. Addicted, abandoned, with only the blue sky to their name... But it was they who knew the bitterness of rejection, lack, and love; they were the ones who felt the unpleasant feeling of returning home to a place where no one was waiting. They had already experienced the pain, and they didn't want Karinka to suffer like they had. The child smiled.