Svenja van der Hagen
Here I am, sitting next to the window. Looking out of it and staring at the rain, how it falls, drop by drop, like tears in the morning sky. There is no bird singing, no child laughing, no one. It is just me and the rain and the never ending sky. Everything is dead. The only color I can see is “grey”. A dirty, muddy grey that, with every second, which passes by, turns more and more into black. A black, where no light can shine through with no hope and no chance for a better life. I remember the car, which out of the blue was colored in a deep red. It was her red and a little bit of mine, but most of it was hers. She lay on the bottom next to me and slept peacefully. I tried to wake her up, but she was too tired. I put her head on my knees and hugged her cold body. At that time it was raining too.
She was black, but my best friend. She lived in Laverton, Australia. Her mum was black, her father white. But she lived together with her mum, because her father had left them when she had been two years old. One day, she was ten by then, she was in town to go shopping. I was sixteen and on vacation with my mother and my father, we went to town for sightseeing, there I met her. She was buying apples and a few of them fell down on the bottom. I helped her to pick them up. I liked her from the first sight and thought I could make friends with her. But she snatched the apples and ran away. I was very confused, but I noticed quickly, that she might have been afraid of me, because I was white. The next day we met again and I tried to start a conversation, but she ran away again. I was interested in her, so I followed her. Then I saw, that she walked into a small house. I could not imagine her to live there, so I waited in front of the house, until someone would come out. Three hours had passed by and still, no one came out. It was already dark outside and when I decided to go, she appeared. I wondered where she wanted to go at that time, so I followed her again. She ran to a rubbish-heap and searched for some food. I was shocked. I came out of my hiding-place and asked her if she had not enough to eat. She tried to run away, but I grapped her hand and did not let her go. First she was afraid, but after some time, she told me, that she was hungry and had not enough money to buy something. I took her to my hotel and asked my mum and dad, if she could stay for the night. They asked me who she was and when I told them she was my friend, they agreed. We went into my room and I ordered something to eat. She ate a lot and although she did not say anything I knew that she was happy. When she had finished, she told me her name: Shita. She said that she lived together with her mum, that they did not have much money, but that they were happy. And she told me, that it was her dream to help little children in Australia, w!
in even harder circumstances than her. I understood her. She smiled when she told me her dream. It was the brightest smile I had ever seen. After that day we met every time we could and became best friends. She was very precious to me. On my last day in Australia we wanted to meet at the place, where we got to know each other. The night before, I asked my parents if I was allowed to give her money. I wanted to help her. They agreed and so I waited for her that day in front of the apple store. She arrived a bit too late, but that did not matter to me. We went away from the apple store, across the street and there it happened. She noticed the car that drove too fast and pushed me to the side. I wondered why she has done that and turned around. Then I saw the car and Shita in front of it. I screamed and fell on my knees, but it was too late.
And now I sit here crying together with the rain, which falls only for her. She is still the most precious person in my life and I know that she would be proud of me, when she knew, that I asked my parents to give a lot of money to organizations in Australia. For children who have no family and nothing to eat. I will always remember her and I promise that I will go to Australia when I am older to help little children to get a good life. It was her dream and now it is mine.
And then out of the blue it stopped raining, the clouds opened up and the sun showed her brightest smile. In remembrance of Shita.
Alle Rechte an diesem Beitrag liegen beim Autoren. Der Beitrag wurde auf e-Stories.org vom Autor eingeschickt Svenja van der Hagen.
Veröffentlicht auf e-Stories.org am 18.02.2015.