In those years, another thing happened, that change the course of my life forever.
I had a favourite aunt, who, together with my paternal grandmother, was the one who was always trying to help us.
She did a lot, even if not as much as she would have loved to.
I later came to know that she was the only one always pressing to call Social Services or something- although, she never did.
She was my uncle's wife.
She was a cheerful, lively person.
We cannot blame her for not having done more than she did: in fact, in those years, she was battling with cancer.
I still remember how cheerful she was, despite it all.
She joked when she had to wear a wig through chemo.
And when cancer came back, she shrugged, and said she wanted to try a new style for her wig this time.
Something crazy, like, blue hair.
I still remember her joy, her desire to live.
Something that had always escaped me: but she gave me at least a glimpse of it.
She tried to teach me to hold on, despite the difficulties.
To be glad for what I had: she always thanked for the years she got to spend on Earth; for her husband, for her children.
She never complained for her disease.
I looked up to her.
Luckily, she got to know the last addition to our family: my baby brother.
She died soon after: metastasis had finally got the best of her.
She had lost her battle with cancer, but she had gained a place in the hearts of all who knew her, forever.
...
It was in that period, that an idea had started to form in my mind.
I wanted to be a doctor.
I wanted to heal people.
I wanted to prevent tragedies such as the ones that had struck our family. Prevent other families to be destroyed like ours was.
Prevent other mothers from leaving their kids too soon.
And thus, for the first time in my life, I started having a dream.
A hope.
A plan, for my future.