~It's just a bad dream~ - Prologue

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TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter contains sickness

"It's just the beginning"

Karlsruhe, Germany 05/14/2001:

My feet are dangling back and forth, while I'm sitting on the hard and uncomfortable chair in the doctor's office. . I'm just a liiiitle bit too short for my feet to touch the floor. But really just a few centimeters. I can hear and smell the rain from outside through the tilted window. Listening to it and kicking my feet is a good distraction from that bad feeling in my belly. Something is off and I know it. My mom is being strange. She's so careful and tired and keeps taking those pills when she thinks I won't notice. Plus, she's never taken me with her to the doctor's office for random check-ups. Except for now. Before I can come up with more reasons why this situation isn't normal at all, the doctor opens the office door and steps inside.
He offers his hand first to my mother, then to me, greeting us with a polite but firm: "Guten Tag. Gut, dass Sie so schnell kommen konnten." ("Hello. I'm glad to see that you were able to come by so fast. " ).

The doctor sits down. We both look at him and he starts explaining the tests they did but doesn't beat around the bush any longer than necessary. He takes a small breath and says that the 'results show' that she in fact has 'a gastric carcinoma'. I repeat what he says in my head but I don't actually know what that means. I understand that it can't be good, by the way my mother's eyes opened widely at his words. It wasn't really a big sign but usually, she doesn't really show anything. Like a poker face.

„Was können wir dagegen tun? Haben sie einen Plan, wie wir dagegen ankämpfen können?" ("What can we do about that? Do we have a plan to fight this? "), she asks with a shaky voice. The doctor looks down, tipping his head from side to side. For the rest of the conversation, I zone out.

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The rain rushes from the sky right down on our car. It's the only noise filling our car. We haven't said a word since we left the doctor's office and it feels like a rule I that shouldn't speak. But I want to know what's going to happen now. What does this mean for us? For me?

"Mama, werd ich dich jetzt verlieren? („Mum, am I going to lose you? "), I ask breaking the silence. My eyes start filling up with tears as I say the question out loud, that I was holding back the whole time.

"Ach, Blödsinn. Was ist das denn überhaupt für einen Frage?" ("Ah, bullshit. What kind of question is that anyway? "), she asks harshly.

The feeling that I've made it worse, lets the tears rush down my cheeks. "Tschuldigung, Mama." ("Sorry, mum").

"Komm schon. Hör auf zu heulen." („Come on. Stop wailing. "). I wipe off my tears and steady my breath.

"Entschuldigung, Mama." („I'm sorry, mum."), I say, knowing that I have made her even more uncomfortable. That's what showing emotions does. It makes people very uncomfortable.

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At home, we're sitting at the dining table in the kitchen. We haven't spoken a word since I cried in the car. And I haven't eaten any of the Spaghetti in front of me, yet. I'm still poking around in it.

"Schmeckts nicht?" ("Don't you like it? "), my mother asks, in a cool but no longer harsh way. „Kein Hunger." („Not hungry."), I answer.

"Klar doch. Was ist los Katharina?" ("Oh, of course. What's wrong Katharina?"), taking the fork out of my hand to catch my attention. I twitch a little but don't look up. I'm trying to hide the tears, that I'm fighting back, from her. I shrug but don't answer, afraid that my voice might give it away.

"Guck mich mal an." ("Look at me."). I don't react. "Schau mich an! "("Look at me!"), she says with more pressure. I slightly shake my head. My tears have won. A few roll down my face and fall onto my Spaghetti. 'Traitors', I think.

My mother reaches out for my chin and grabs it to turn my face to hers. In between her fingers and my chin are a few wet, blond waves sticking to my skin. She pulls them away and tucks them behind my ear with her free hand. I raise my eyes to look at her and hers are looking right back at me. I look down again, ashamed that I make her uncomfortable. Ashamed that she has to take care of me, even though she's the one who's sick.

"Hey, guck mich bitte an." ("Hey, please look at me."), she says softer than I've heard her talk to me in the last few years. So, I do as she says and look back up.

"Was ist los, Schatz?" ("What's wrong, honey?"). I look at her not sure what to say.

„Ich hab Angst Mama. Ich weiß, dass ich das nicht soll. Dass andere meine Angst ausnutzen. Dass das gefährlich ist, aber...aber ich...ich... " ("I'm sacred, mum. I know that I'm not supposed to. That others will use my fear. That it's dangerous, but...but I...I..."), I stutter, but she cuts me off.

„Du hast recht. Du musst keine Angst haben. Ich bin stark. Ich schaff das. Und du bist auch stark. Oder habe ich es doch nicht geschafft meiner Tochter beizubringen stark zu sein? "(„You 're right. You don't have to be scared. I am strong. I will make it. And you're strong, too. Or did I fail to raise a strong daughter? " ).

I breathe in and swallow hard, collecting my strength. "Doch hast du Mama." ("No, you raised me strong.").

„Gut. Dann iss jetzt was. Du musst noch deine Hausaufgaben machen. Außerdem hast du morgen Jiu-Jitsu, also solltest du einiger Maßen ausgeschlafen sein. "(„Good. Now eat something. You still gotta do your homework. You 've got Jiu-Jitsu tomorrow, too, so you should be well rested. "), she says, letting go of me and returning to her normal, distant tone.

I nod and while I start eating my dinner my feet start tangling forth and back. And back and forth.

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Thank you so much for reading.

I'm not sure about the way I handled the two different languages thing, so if you have any recommendations for me, that would make it easier for you to read, let me know.
And if you don't like it at all, that there are two different languages spoken, don't worry. After the prologue, I will be writing primarily in English.

For anyone who understands both languages: Yes, I didn't actually translate it word for word. I tried it and decided that it just didn't work the way I wanted. Therefore I decided to do more of a mediation. That way I could show the characters and their characteristics in both languages instead of just one of them.

What did you think of the length? Was it too long? Too short?

If you found typos or other errors, don't be scared to correct me:)

And if you were unsure of where Karlsruhe is...well there you go:

well there you go:

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~993~




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