When we were small, we were not afraid of anything and anyone.
We had a best friend, the 30 years old man, who played with us everyday, bought candies, took to his work, somewhere underground place and was always around to talk about our "problems". We didn't have one thought, it wasn't right, because we liked him so much. I still remember his name and how he looked.
At 11 years old we started to go out at night, just for a walk. We were lying to our mothers about the home work, special school project and would dress up in mini skirts (I wear ever since), with make up from a paint box, pretty hair styles from old movies. And we would go to the darkest places, were telling only scary stories and thought we would see something amazing.
Some nights I had to go to pick up grass for the bunnies and chickens my mom had all the time on our balcony. Then she got a pig, very small, to fit him and eat after. Of course, the second never happened, because me and my sister were crying and begging on our knees not to touch the little piggy. My father used to walk this pig on the leash to the park for a few months until the pig went to live with my uncle in his village. My father had a horses, he had no idea what to do with. And the horse went to my uncle too. We had dogs and cats and we thought it was a good childhood.
