My mother said writing down things that worry or interest me is the only way to heal to truly heal. I called her silly when she told me that. I was a young child, caught up in reality and the darkness of truth. I didn't have an imagination, I feared what letting my brain run wild would do to me and to others around me. My father was just like me, he would work for hours as a shop keeper, trying to keep my family afloat in this gruesome game called life. He gave up his job as a painter, his only dream. I strived to be just like him, to work hard and contribute to the income of our household.
One day, he pulled me aside, looked me straight into the eyes and told me: "Aimi, I do not want you to be like me. Do not become someone you are not. I have seen the drawings that you hide. I want you to become what you want, no matter the cost." After that day I became what I wanted to become, an artist. I drew instead of helping with the shop. I painted instead of doing my chores. I had never seen so much pride in my fathers eyes when he watched me, I wanted it to stay like that forever. Nevertheless it could not, my father and mother lost the shop due to failure to pay city taxes. I had to take responsibility and I have, my job as a maid starts in a few days, and I am terrified. I don't want to lose my job, my family will never survive.
If there are gods, I pray, I pray that I succeed to feed my hungry brothers and sister, I pray that I have enough to pay for my grandmothers medicine, I pray, I pray for my father's happiness. Please. Let him be happy for once.
