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Talking about magical stories and thinking about my mom, reminded me that my mom told a lot of tales with magic in it. Mostly it was a thrilling story. My mom could come to a climax with full suspense. It was wonderful, but as bedtime stories not so much. Some stories were in this time, magic supposed to have died but there were people performing it after thousands of years. Those stories I loved. They could feel so real, by how my mom told them. I think it were stories from long ago that passed from parent to kid and so came from my mother to me. I think this, because when I tried to find any written versions I couldn’t find any. I even told my friend, Astrid. Of course she wanted to know the stories. And I told them. She wrote them down and that’s how these stories came on paper for the first time. I was glad that it was put on paper. I wouldn’t want to forget these stories ever. Sometimes I am intrigued by magic, but I also think its loads of idiocy to believe that magic could be used on this day. My friend would like to though. She is completely obsessed over magic, sometimes it’s very disturbing. When we go shopping, we’ll have to go to every book store and she’ll hunt for books about magic that she hadn’t collected yet. If we have time, she would drag me to a library and there her hunt continues. And of course she would lend the book. When she read the book, she would go to a book store and order a copy. She reads those books the whole day, if she wants. Of course it is a subject she always wants to talk about and ask my opinion about it. I mostly keep my true opinion for me. I don’t want to hurt her feelings in any way. Sometimes I hope she would just shut up, but I can’t tell her that. Plus she is my only friend. I can’t let her down like that. I don’t want to be lonely either. She is important to be, but she’s also really annoying. Though sometimes she stops talking and asks after me and how I am doing. Then she listens carefully to everything I tell her and all this she keeps in mind. It’s like she’s a sponge. She takes in a lot of information and doesn’t let it go. She’s very smart and really wise for her age and she keeps amazing me. She intrigues me and that’s how I can bear her and how I stick to her. I am glad to have her. She’s also my escape from reality and my father, also my escape for bad feelings like sadness. One day she asked what was wrong with me and I had let go all of my feelings and I kept talking like a speed train and I cried and I got frustrated and everything. I just gave her all the information she wanted and I kept going. She was patient with me and listened to everything and then she hugged me. I was surprised and I just knew at that moment that I needed that and that I missed it. I was so happy that day, only because of that. It was long ago, but still I remember it as if it was yesterday. Life is hard and that lesson I learned quickly, but life is also filled with wonderful things and as long as I am alive I should enjoy them. That’s quite easier said than done, but I try. I don’t want to end up as my father. My father won’t find a girlfriend ever again and that’s good, because no one can replace my mother even if a woman wanted too. Never can somebody be as good as she was. I sometimes visit my mother’s grave and that makes me very emotional every time again. I cry as if I was just born and needed to get my lungs clear from the fluid that I had breathed in, when I was still in her tummy. Life without my mom felt heavier and not at all amusing. My mom always helped me when I had troubles. When I got my period, as every girl would in their lives, my dad panicked and even brought me to a clinic. I was ashamed and he was too. We just went to the store to go and get the stuff I needed and it was fixed. That night I was angry and so ashamed that I squeezed the deck of cards hard and told my mom everything. After that I cried and wished her with me, not only for the time that I felt miserable like that but for my life. I wanted her in my life again and I really wanted her near me. I wanted her with me. I wanted her to lead me into my life. In my opinion her death was the worst thing ever. Because of my dad’s actions I even thought that I wouldn’t mind if he died. And why should I? He is only a selfish bastard. Doesn’t he ever think about me and consider what I want? Every time, everything had to go as how he wanted and not as how I wanted. And that’s how days passed and that how every day in my life went. I just wanted rest some times. I couldn’t keep going on like this. It was as if he wanted to control every second of my life and had to be his slave. I don’t know how I would manage for a longer period.