Mum was sleeping.
Dad was sleeping.
I tried to wake them up, but they won't wake up anymore.
I told them the sheep would be lonely as well not only me.
They still slept.
Mum and Dad were sleeping for ... three days.
Then a lot of people came and took them away.
A woman told me they are dead.
But what is that... dead...
I watched them burying Mommy and Daddy under the earth.
So, I asked them how they could care for the sheep when they are down there.
The woman gave me a document.
She told me when I am old enough I would understand.
Every day I was looking out of the window, I waited for them to return but nobody came.
The sheep seemed lonely, so I fed them and brushed their fur.
I kept doing it every day and I felt a bit less lonely.
After some years my first sheep died.
And I finally understood that Mum and Dad would not come back.
I sat alone in that house that I had inherited along with the sheep.
I spent my birthdays alone, I spent holidays alone and I never was visited by anyone.
The village is down the hill.
I only had my sheep.
We talked, rather I talked to them.
I slowly grew tired of them.
Since they can't answer me, they won't understand me and no matter how sad I seemed or no matter what I said they never budged.
Even when I said: "How do you feel about your friend dying?", it just had looked at me trying to hit the fly with its ear.
I sighed.
A dumb sheep like you won't understand me.
I need people around me.
Then I looked down from the hill when again the last sheep went up and got inside the fence.
The village was beautiful as the small lights danced to the sunset.
"Maybe tomorrow I will be less lonely", I muttered to myself.