Chapter 2
I leave the psychologist's office and exhale. This was my last therapy session. The last time someone tried to change what you can't change.
Although yes, my panic attacks are gone and depression has become a part of my life, so I'm used to it. The world no longer seems to be one big black hole that sucks me in every day. The psychologist did everything to make me feel at ease again, but she won't take my memories away. She will not make me forget him…
2009
I well remember the smell of chocolate cookies, which my mother always baked on New Year's, the scent meandered from the first floor to the second, where my small but cosy pink room was located.
I remember how I ran with all my might to finally see the gifts. I was nine years old, and although I knew that there was no Santa Claus, I still believed in miracles.
"My own cosmetics." I shouted. Although, of course, it was for kids, I couldn't help but be happy about it.
"Headphones like I wanted." said my brother Sebastian. He was five years older than me, but there was always a special connection between us, as if we were twins.
Mom came to us and gave a big hug, then Dad took his new camera, and we took a family photo.
We looked like the happiest family in the world.
And so it was, until a year later, my father was diagnosed with a heart problem.
"Coronary heart disease," said the doctor.
My mother and I froze in place. I couldn't feel the ground under my feet, tears were pouring from my eyes. And although I did not fully understand what kind of disease it was, I felt that something was wrong.
Then for the first time I felt the weight of the world on my shoulders. Sebastian took my hand, I didn't hear the words he whispered in my ear, but I knew it was something good.
"Don't leave me, dad". I broke out of my brother's arms, ran to my father and grabbed his hand. His palm was several times larger than mine.
He has always been the strongest for me, and now he should be the same.
The nurse took my brother and me out of the doctor's office, but I tried to overhear everything.
"How long does he have left?" asked my mother.
"I'm sorry."
My world was divided into before and after. I wanted to tear out my heart and give it to my father, just so he could live. When I was six, we were playing with friends on the playground, at some point I realised that I was lying on the ground and could not breathe, and three children fell right on top of me. Even on the day when I almost died of pain, I was ready to experience a thousand times more, because what I feel now is much more painful.
"This is a hereditary disease," the doctor continued. I don't know how I didn't lose consciousness then and continued to stand behind the door.
"I recommend your children to be checked."
Here my heart began to beat wildly. Hereditary disease? What does the word hereditary mean?
I was only ten, and unfortunately or fortunately, I didn't understand the meaning of certain words.
When my mother left the office, I could not look at her. The eyes are full of tears and pain, the face is as white as a wall. Several years later, I realised that she also lost a part of herself. That the universe that she existed for left her.