Cornelia, Carmen and Caroline

Cornelia
As a young girl the boy next door pulled a chair away as she intended to sit down at the kitchen table. A harmless joke infecting the rest of her life. It hurt, hurt more than anyone could imagine. She didn’t live in a time where doctors were consulted and girls were taken seriously. Her life was a hard one and she lived with it, the terrible pain that didn’t left only get worse as time passed by.
She had to work hard and new she needed to study, take care of herself because she would never get married. Being in pain alone is easier to handle as taking care of a husband, having a family of her own.
She struggled through life, was kind and generous and became a teacher. The children she never had her profession gave her. She wasn’t a mom 24/7 but cared, she cared more than anyone would ever know or admit.
That pain, that terrible pain never left her but she didn’t blame the boy next door not sued him for the harm he had done to her, the fact he had forced her to live in pain, give up on her future, a family of her own.

Carmen
She could have had a great life if she was born in a different family, if her family would have been good, at least had given a try to love or support her. Instead they fought each other and after their divorce the situation didn’t get any better.
Mother’s new boyfriend a pastor raped her and she tried to kill herself.
Help… It was never on the way. No one believed her, no one ever asked her, there were no fellow sufferers or support groups. As her foster mother tried to help her, spoke out, she was sent away and told she harms her.
Carmen… A smart intelligent girl, good at school, was locked into a mental institution. They kept her in isolation for weeks, put her on a straight jacket and forced her to take medication. Medication that would make her stop telling this kind of nonsense, lies.
She fought and after years she lost the battle. Her fight to be heard, her cry for help was ignored because of caretakers who didn’t care, parents who never had and a selfish pastor.

Caroline
She always had been kind and the best student. She was loved, been raised by great parents but never been one of those popular girls. It wasn’t that she felt the need to be one but that doesn’t mean either she felt flattered as she was asked for a dance.
Her marriage was the best day of her life. From that moment on her life went downhill. He didn’t care about her or the children and in short time she turned into a nervous housewife, a fat, dull woman without any friends, the type of woman he despised although she kept smiling.
She didn’t feel the need to speak out, tell his colleagues about what he did, only wanted to be left in peace, find a way out.
She found a way, fled with her two children but could never forget, always stayed alert. She tried to smile, but her vpice said more than words could do.
From a beloved and great student she changed in a single mother afraid to speak, scared for the world outside till anxiety finally killed her.

#kittywu #women #life

Source photos: pixabay.com

The fight against a painful bladder

A bladder infection is not as harmless as some people want us to believe. If you are suffering from it, have chronic infections it’s hard to function in a normal way, to work, keeping a smile on your face, act normal and have a good night rest.

Pain is no fun and this type of pain eats you. The infection will cause fever and it feels as if someone hits you on your bladder every few minutes or seconds. There are painful cramps and it feels as if you need to pee every few minutes which means you spend a lot of time on the toilet for a few painful drops.

Not everyone suffers as much. To some it’s just painful, others feel a twinge of pain and pee blood and have a high fever within twenty minutes.
Advises given to cure a bladder infection are drinking a lot and using high doses of vitamin C, avoid sugar and wiping off your bottom from the front to the back. Drinking a lot means more toilet visits which means even more pain.
The idea behind it is to pee out bacteria. High doses of vitamin C are meant to change the urine. The body cannot store vitamin C and bacteria have a hard time in an acidic environment. This trick could help although today doctors/scientists say it’s pointless just like avoiding sugar. Avoiding sugar is another way to stop bacteria from growing, it means a change of the urine.The meaning of wiping your bottom in the right way is to prevent the risk of more bacteria causing an infection.

Worldwide many, mainly females, suffer from bladder infections.
In most cases, they do not suffer from it because they don’t drink enough or don’t know how to wipe off their underside. It is caused by sex, rape, giving birth, operations, been cut in the vagina, et cetera. And… a bladder infection is a sexual disease! This is a fact. This also means it is pointless to take antibiotics if the partner doesn’t take them. Rough sex, just like giving birth will damage the tissue and gives room to bacteria, infections. The more frequently it happens the more harm it will bring and the harder it is to cure the infection and kill the pain.

Sad is there’s nothing that can cure it in long term (forever) if you do belong to the group of chronic patients. You might have better days but the infection can start from one moment to the next, without any warning. Already change of the weather, sitting outside in the sun is good to trigger it. A chronic patient should always be aware of the fact the infection comes back in most cases after sex. The bladder is the weak spot and should not be ignored. With some luck, the new attack can be killed without antibiotics, with bad luck you need to take them for months and still are in pain. Important in this case is you always have a dose at hand to act immediately.

Neglected bladder infections are dangerous.
Not only the bladder can shrink but your kidneys can be infected. An infection during the pregnancy can harm the unborn and should be taken seriously as well.

“Interstitial cystitis (IC), often called painful bladder syndrome, is a tricky condition. It’s tough to diagnose, and though treatments can make life with it better, there’s no cure.”

Although it’s advised to go to the toilet to pee the bacteria out this is not what one suffering from a painful bladder syndrome should do. The bladder would only shrink faster (after each infection scarves are left).
The difference between a bladder infection and the syndrome is the syndrome doesn’t start with an infection but… It’s not said it cannot change into one and that’s one of the tricky parts.

How to fight a bladder infection or this painful syndrome if antibiotics don’t help?
It’s hard to advice one cure that helps since each body is different and so is the lifestyle, autoimmune system and food intake. Live a scheduled life, avoid stress, coffee, alcohol and don’t smoke. Eat as healthy as possible and try to sleep enough (8-10 hours). Drink enough and don’t use toilet paper but water. You can sit in a tub with (washing) soda 1-3 times a day. If you suffer from obstipation fight it. Avoid cold and don’t wear trousers, tight clothes. Fight the pain with painkillers or better a hot water bag or a warm bath or bed. Cantharis D6 (Spanish fly) do you good if you do not like antibiotics first or they won’t help.

#kittywu #health #cantharisD6 #bladder

One day the sun will shine on you

“The sun can’t always shine upon you,” they say and no, it’s not what I except but I do wonder who those “they” are.
“They” always seem to know better but if you observe those “they” their life isn’t my better, in many cases even worse.


“They” spread phrases and memes not because they saw the light, felt the rays of sun but because they clung to the last bit of hope those phrases give. Phrases made by others, psychologists, the government and advertising world included. A fake happiness is sold to generations of people to cheer them up and make them believe it’s good to be a poor bastard and bad to have money, money and property.
What “they” want is give a bad feeling about everything you own,. Sharing we should but the real rich ones never share. If they give it’s not by their heart but because it benefits them.


“They” are not the ones a person should believe. “They” are empty or crooks and do not care about others. You cannot because caring means sharing, opening up and reach out. Not only if it comes to the wallet but that ear, time to listen and really hear what is said first.
The naked truth is the sun doesn’t shine on many and it never will. It’s not motivating to share empty phrases like “your time will come”. It’s what you say if you want to get rid of someone, someone else’s misery because you prefer to close your eyes to reality. It’s fine if you do so but please stop sharing your killing expressions, words that are not yours. It doesn’t make you a better or more intelligent person if you copy someone else.

#kittywu #freewrite #life #rayofsun

The person at the espresso machine

She hated her job but like her father said ‘one has to make an income’. She felt bitter after year’s of making coffee, the fake smiles, pretended happiness and the stupid old espresso machine in the casino she disliked most of all.
Empty promises was all she got and nothing else.
“Being a woman sucks in every way,” she thought, “how come no guy makes coffee? I am sure the dumb machine is not invented by a woman.”
She leaned against the bar and observed the visitors. No matter how they were dressed it was obvious to her who the poor bastards were, who the new rich ones and the real nobility. “The way people talk and act say more than the way they are dressed,” she mumbled. She had learned that at a very young age. By now she was in her late thirties and not one of her dreams was realized. She knew people called her judgmental but she was not. She was an observer and had seen right through people from the first day they met and she had always been right if she had spoken out.
“You should not judge a book by its cover dear”, her father had told her more than once. Never he’d admitted she was right and she regretted those times she had listen to him instead of her instinct.

In thoughts, she made the cup of espresso ordered by a man in a tuxedo as the tumult behind her started.
People were shouting and accusing a visitor of something that must be serious enough for the security to show up, drag a woman into their office and call for the police. She couldn’t remember the police ever been called.
“They say she robbed the bank, the cashier,” the man in tuxedo said while sipping his coffee.
“How do you know?”
“I met her at the table…”
She raised an eyebrow and observed the man. He seemed amused. She didn’t like him.


The woman was in the office and she couldn’t help observing her on her way to the toilets. At first sight, she was an elegantly dressed lady but she knew she was not. Did she do it and if so how come the money wasn’t found? As far as she knew it was impossible to rob a casino and the way the guy at the bar had behaved.
“He did it”, she thought, ” I bet he was the one and the cashier is part of it. She’s part of a set-up, used and keeps her mouth shut because…”
She walked to the cash desk and examined the cashier. He looked uneasy, nervous and creepy like usual.
“A bad day for you,” she said, “who ever thought the casino made such a big mistake.”
“What do you mean,” he stammered.
“It’s all on tape. You, your mate, everything. She knows it too… about you, your… needs.”
He swallowed and didn’t know what to answer. Did she say the truth and if so could he trust her? He never had paid much attention to her. Not because she was a woman but because people scared him. They all scared him except the guy he recently met. He had approached him, seen him, not made a fool out of him, not like she had done as they were neighbouring, at high school and…
“I tried to survive, had to survive she…”
“You are pathetic,” she said.
“Not this time if… you help me, take it out of here for me.”
She nodded as she left with a red backpack on one shoulder. They would meet again.

Source: pixabay.com

#kittywu #freewrite #story

Anxiety, the black widow

He knew at his age it all looked bizarre but he couldn’t help. Fear was what held him, surrounded him, stopped him from living his life. He felt how anxious surrounded him, hold his throat. It was as if she sat at his chest and choked him.
He had tried to fight her, struggled to get rid of it and there had been a time he had accepted every help he could get. By now he had given up the fight. He was in his fifties and those great days promised to him, his super future was something he had given up on.

It all started at the boxing club, came over him like a dark cloud. A cloud no one saw or felt except him. It didn’t only surround him but had made itself comfortable in his chest. It was a cold spot not just in his mind but for real. It was as if his heart was held by an ice-cold hand. At times he laid his hand on his chest and as he did he felt the cold was real. It was no imagination like the young woman in her late teens tried to make him believe. Already the memory of her arrogance was good for freaking out again.

He tried not to think of her but he couldn’t help. She stalked him for year’s and there was no way to get rid of her. It hadn’t been that long ago he realised no one would listen to him, no one ever had. The boxing club had been an idea if a teacher. She had told his parents it would be a good way to learn how to defend himself. He felt uncomfortable touching people and of course, they had bullied him, beaten him up, followed him and nothing had changed since then.
Anxiety ruled his life. She was like a black widow. Cold, merciless, feeding herself with his life.

#kittywu #story #freewrite #anxiety

The curse

The whole family had been cursed since granny disappeared, at least that’s what they said. The family tiptoed through life and thought more than once before they decided if it came to leaving the house. The old villa had hardly been changed since that notable day. The old man wanted to leave it in exactly the same way and after he died and was buried in the backyard no one had felt the need to change anything. The house was the last what was left from her and it fulfilled all their needs. It had been her who decorated it and she had done it with care, love and dedication. Each piece of furniture and even the smallest item was chosen for a specific reason. She had cherished what she had and that was what the family decided to do too. Although her disappearance had shocked them at that moment they never felt the urge to move out and sell the place. The house brought life, joy, and love into their lives and it felt to them as if she had never left.
Three generations lived in perfect harmony underneath the same roof together with the old Dan the butler.

“Grandma would have loved it this way,” Teddy said and they all agreed.

Each one of them knew it was inside they were safe. The curse could not reach them. Outside was a different story. No matter who went out, old or young, male or female, it never ended in a good way. It felt as if a cloud of misery followed the one as soon as the gate was left. The cloud did not follow the person but crushed him. The adults, each one of them had at least tried once. Each time it resulted in a high amount of disasters from being beaten up till hit by a car and ending up in hospital or prison or the graveyard. Teddy was the only one who managed to order a phone and groceries before he ended up in the hospital.
Some family members said they had felt it in the atmosphere, the pressure, their doomsday.
For this reason, not one of the children had ever visited a school, seen a doctor, been able to visit the cinema or ever played with friends outside. It’s hard to tell if they missed it. They never complained, neither felt bored or sick and tired. The house seemed to fulfil their wishes and the property outside was their kingdom.



“If you had the power to change one person’s life, how would you do it?”

Her question had shocked him. She was in her late forties and what they called very foolish.

“Why you ask?”

He looked at her waiting for an answer. An answer that hopefully made some sense. He had never thought about a change, changing his life or someone else’s.

“You can change mine,” she said as she walked over to the window. “I like to be up there.”

She pointed at an aeroplane in the sky.

“You will not make it and die.”

“I know,” she said with a smiling face, “but don’t we all? You can help me.”

“You never make it to the airport.”

“You can help me build one. I fly from here or…”

“Or what?”

“We ignore the curse. I think we can do that. Ignore it and…”

“And?”

“Find out what happened to granny.”

As far as he knew no one ever asked what happened to granny. Grandpa had accepted the fact she disappeared at least that’s what he told and everyone thought. Had the police ever looked for her? Had there been a case?

“You can’t ignore the curse. We all tried and you know what happened. Look at you.”

She was the most foolish person he knew and it was a miracle to him why she asked him.

“I found something… it’s important. I’ll show it to you if you help me. I know you can, you are the only one interested in the truth,” she buttered him up.

He was a man in his late thirties and she was right. He could be quite considerate plus she had pulled a string as she said she wanted to know what happened to grandma. Vaguely he remembered her and how he had wished she had been around for longer.

“I knew you would help me,” she said as she took his hand and pulled him out of the room into the corridor.



“You’ve ever been here?”

He shook his head.

“I was.” She hesitated, “as long as I remember I go over here… I know I am not smart, not the smartest if you all but I think it’s important.”

Carefully she opened the door and slipped inside and he followed her. For a moment he saw her as a four-year-old with a lace dress and pipe curls.

“You have to sit down. This is where I spent many hours. I watched.”
She pointed at the hole in the wall. “You have a look.”

He bent forward and peeped through the hole. What he saw wasn’t unfamiliar to him. He didn’t know what to say. She was older than him and had figured it out. Perhaps she didn’t know it yet but she did.

“What do you think?”

“It… it looks interesting. You have been inside.”

“No, no way how could I? The hole is just a peeping hole. I am Alice but not the Alice in Wonderland.”

She started at him and waited for a response.

“Who made it,” he whispered.

“The hole? It wasn’t me. It’s old, it always been there. Can we get in there, the room I mean?”

He thought and didn’t know what to say. Would it alarm her if he refused?

“What did you see?”

Again he peeped through the hole. How much could she have seen?

“I saw them,” she whispered, “I saw both of them and as she came in…they were so mad at her. I didn’t know what to do. I hid and covered my ears…”

It was not what he had expected her to say. He saw fear in her eyes and she shivered.

“Follow me we have to talk. We need to talk somewhere else, not here.”

He closed the door of the living in his wing behind her and gave her a cup of mint tea. She accepted it gratefully.

“Are you angry with me?”

“No dear but you know we have to talk. Do you know who’s room that is or… was?

She nodded but didn’t dare to speak out loud about what she had seen, saw long ago and had never spoken about.

“It’s granddad’s or…”

“Or?”

“… The butler. I am not sure. Both stayed there and granny…”

“She found out about it. What they did. They were not the only ones… there were more.”

He swallowed and closed his eyes.

“Someone was arrested and after that…”

“After that granny disappeared.”

She nodded again.

“You were there?”

It was his turn to nod.

“You know what happened to her?”

He shook his head. Granny had meant the world to him. He had loved her more than his own parents. He wasn’t sure if she had noticed him but he had seen her. She had never been that angry. Angry at grandpa, the butler and the others, all those men who gathered around the table. He knew she waited for a response.

“The story started in an aeroplane,” he said, “it’s where they all met but I don’t know what happened that night or… to granny.”

“Grandfather knows, the old man knows and…”



“The butler!”

The old men stood in the doorway and a gun pointed at them.

“We made a deal and the only thing you had to do was keep your mouth shut. Why can’t you be like the rest? Do you have any idea how much it takes to keep a curse alive?”

“I want to fly,” she said, “I want to be up in the air.”

“You foolish girl why can’t you be satisfied with what you have? You are just like your grandmother.”

His eyes were filled with hate and he didn’t hesitate for a second as he pulled the trigger and shot.


Surprised he felt as he heard the shot. “It doesn’t hurt at all,” was his first thought. He felt his chest and looked at the blood at his hand. He didn’t hear her scream or felt how his head hit the coffee table as he fell forward.

“Why,” she screamed, “why did you shoot him?

“I had the intention to shoot you my dear but he was dumb enough to catch that bullet for you.”

Without wasting more time he shot the screaming woman in front of him. He had never liked women and the only reason he had accepted the job as a butler was to be close to the one he loved, to be free to do what he liked.

“Don’t worry you will meet her soon,” he said to the bleeding woman at his feet, “you know what killed the cat.” He kicked her against her head on his way out.

“Why can’t you be satisfied with what you have? There’s no reason to interfere in my business. I cannot allow you to blow up my cover-up, my life work,” he grumbled on his way out. Two more had to disappear. How come this family was never convinced and after all these warnings they still didn’t give up?

From radio station to microstate

Sealand… it’s one of those mini if not microstates in the world. Most of us never heard of them but a small part does and Sealand is one of them.
“Sealand was founded as a sovereign Principality in 1967 in international waters, seven miles off the eastern shores of Britain.”
What exactly is this country? It is an abandoned fortress, a fortress once called “Roughs Tower” which is located in international water. In 1966 it was a great place to start a pirate radio station and that was what Roy Bates did. At that time his radio station “Radio Essex” was seen as a pirate, a station that broadcasted pop music. Music that was by far not as “rude” or “obscene” as the kind of music that is broadcasted today.
Roy was a pioneer, a pioneer and fighter not only if it comes to music but also if it comes to his right. A lot happened to him and his family. They fought for their right and I truly believe we all have benefited from it.


I remember listening to the pirate radio stations. In the Netherlands, we had “Veronica” for example but there was “radio Caroline”, and ” radio Northsea” from the UK which we in the Netherlands were able to listen to as well. I have good memories of the two last-mentioned and to be honest, these were way better as what we hear today. Once the pirates in the Netherlands became official they turned into noise and commercials. By the way, most are officially located in Luxembourg.



Back to Sealand, the fort became a monarchy because the UK abandoned it. Of course, it made the UK mad and they destroyed the other fortresses. How the crew of the government vessel behaved against the Bates family we can imagine ourselves. I wonder how the crew felt as they lost this war, a war against their own people. Roy Bates was a Major in the British army. What exactly was it the UK wanted to prove?
Interesting is Roy made his wife a Princess at her birthday, Princess Joan. It might sound strange but the fact is all royal families started exactly in the same way. Normal people without any rank, pirates forced themselves upon other people. Some were seen as a saviour others are hated and not more than parasites living on the account of the nation, they crowned themselves and made up their own family name. What exactly was the UK, the government or royal family afraid of?

Sealand, it’s just like the Netherlands built on water. Sealand stands for freedom and freedom is what most of us lack today. Perhaps not each one of us is a soldier, not each one of us is born with a silver spoon in our mouth but we can be a Lord, Knight, Baron, even a Duke. Sealand makes it possible. Stamps, your own piece of Sealand, an ID, the national flag… it all makes it as real as any other country only this one accepts you no matter what you look like or where you are born. To me it sounds like a true statue, the real monument of liberty.

You can read more about Sealand’s history here.

https://sealandgov.org

#kittywu #microstate #radioessex #sealand

Replace that old habit

I woke up early. I have a poster of Fats Domino. I am not sure if I like him but he reminds me of grandpa.
Sometimes I go to the kitchen and watch my grandmother bake a cake. She uses a small old scales and doesn’t want me to lick out of the bowl. She says the dough makes me sick but I like the taste and in the end, she gives the bowl to me. Today I stay in bed. I like to be alone and here there are no tasks to do. The shops are closed my grandma can not send me to the bakery to buy her half a white bread. She always buys half a white milk bread. It has to be the one with milk. Is there really milk in it? I cannot see it or taste any difference with our bread.

After breakfast, it is coffee time and after that, we leave to my other granny. She is my favourite grandmother and sick. She also writes me letters if she is in hospital and I write her back. She lives far away. I like her but I don’t like sitting in the car. It makes me feel sick. I try to sleep but I can’t.

My mother is angry and my dad says he will take care of the financial books and she says she takes a lawyer if needed.
I don’t know what they mean with financial perhaps the old man who worked for grandpa? I saw him a few times sitting at grandpa’s desk as my grandmother told me to bring him his cup of coffee and a slice of cake.
I wish my mother would be silent for a while but she keeps talking, complaining. I hope she won’t turn around and look at me. Her arm can still reach me although I try to hide in a corner. If she does and notices I feel ill she will hit me. She doesn’t want me to vomit in her car.

If you dare to vomit I kick you out of the car. You better swallow it!

She always says the same, repeat it over and over again but sometimes I can’t help. I remember once I was little and felt ill. I stood in my crib, cried and vomited at the curtains. She was furious with me. I cried but she didn’t touch me. My dad had to clean it up. She said I spoiled her curtains.
Last time I vomited my dad came to help me.
Next time you need to vomit do it in your pillowcase,” he said. He gave me clean sheets and everything. I felt sick again and did as he told me. I kept my bed clean but my mother was mad with me. She said I spoiled her pillow. I don’t understand what I did wrong. I did exactly what dad told me to do. He didn’t come back so I couldn’t tell my mother who to blame. Perhaps she would believe me.

Granny is happy to see me. My mother doesn’t like her and she doesn’t like my uncle either. He is my dad’s youngest brother and has a bit in common with the bully in the street. My dad bought flowers for his mother and they talk. Adults always talk and there isn’t much to do for me. Granny doesn’t have toys and only a few books. My uncle doesn’t want to play with me. He leaves. Later I help granny in the kitchen and after dinner with the dishes. She has a serving hatch which I like just like her sugar pot. Granny has no pets and our dogs stay in her garden. They are happy they can be outside. They hate the car as much as I do.

At the end of the day, we go back home. My dad drives and my mother doesn’t say a word. I look at the streetlights on the highway. In the dark, the chain of lights looks like the fair.

Saturday
December 26, 2021


It’s Sunday. Everything is back to normal. I wake up early and hear the wind outside. I hurried out of bed. I overslept, she will be mad with me again. It’s still dark outside.
I hurry downstairs to make her breakfast. Dad says she left and we can set the table for the two of us.
She left… I am happy she did. I don’t know for how long but there will be some peace now.
My dad doesn’t visit the church and I stay at home too. We have breakfast and clean up. After that, he makes coffee and reads the newspaper and I read my book. I wonder if he made his bed. If she comes back she will be angry if he didn’t although it’s not his task. I won’t ask him if he did. I just want a moment of peace.

Sunday
December 27, 2020


She came back yesterday. Of course, she did and of course, she was angry. It doesn’t matter what I do, what my dad did she is still mad and will always be. My dad says she’s just tired and I have to be kind to her. I try but she hates me. I see the hate in her **emerald eyes**. She hates me and even tells me she does. She says I look like my dad and she wishes I was never born. I wish I was never born too. It’s all I wish but no one asked me. It’s not my fault I am born. I too wish I was never born. It won’t get any better. I know it. She says I am ugly and will kill me. One day she will.
It’s hard to be kind to someone who hates you so much. If she yells at me she spits, I watch her spittle fly through the air. I don’t want her spit in my face. She stinks, she really does. I do not like to hug her.

Monday
December 28, 2020


We still have no new housekeeper. She will come, there’s always someone new just not now. Our house is super clean. We have no time to make it dirty. Perhaps we need a cook. Someone who can make food that doesn’t make me ill. Someone I can talk to. The only ones I talk to are the dogs but I cannot say everything to them they are friends with my mother. I sit with them in their basket and feed them sometimes. I brush them too. My mother says I have to keep brushing till not one single hair stays behind in the brush. Is that possible at all? My arm and hand hurt if I brush for hours. I don’t like it.

No one knows but I have two diaries. This one and the ugly orange one she gave me. I have to write something in that one too. I know she reads it.

Tuesday
December 29, 2020


I watched some television in the afternoon. My parents both left. I am glad I was home alone. The lights in the tree are burning. In between watching, I listen if I hear her car. I hope she will stay away for a long time. I don’t think she will but I hope so.

Wednesday
December 30, 2020

I was outside for a while and walked through the alleys behind the houses. Some mothers are baking deep-fried doughnut balls outside, some in their shed. I like the smell. My mother doesn’t make them either does my dad. Tonight we visit my grandmother again. She knows how to make them. I never saw her do it. I watch how a woman puts the dough in a pan of oil. It doesn’t look difficult at all. She sees me.
You like one,” she asked and she gave me one. She gave me one she just made. I thank her as she gives it to me. She is the best person I ever met. I will never forget this, never forget her. I don’t know her but she is kind to me.

Thursday
December 31, 2020


I wake up at my grandmother’s house. Last night we arrived and celebrated the end of the year.
My grandmother baked buckets filled with doughnut balls and apple fritters. My aunt was there too and now she has a boyfriend. He is tall and kind, she is very small. He looks like a giant. A giant that doesn’t talk much.
They all watched something on the television. A famous man spoke about the year, things that happened. No one spoke about what happened to me… what will happen to me.
They said you have to make a wish, replace your old habits for something better, replace that old standard to achieve something. My mother… she will not replace anything. People won’t do that, she won’t and will always be the same. Foxes don’t change their habits, the lion does not either do my mother.
Happy New Year,” they all lied and my aunt was the only one who dared to hug me. I could cry but I understand, she is happy and found a friend. Perhaps is safe now and no longer afraid of my mother.

Today the world is not different from yesterday. It’s only the next day, we go home and everything is the same. My mother will shout at me, hate and hit me, my dad keeps his mouth shut or hits me with his slippers if she tells him and I will hide my bruises till the end.

Friday
January 1, 2021


#kittywu #kidsdiary #childhood

If you cut the tree

“That three,” she points at the tree I am standing underneath, “it has an awful lot of leaves.”

I wait for sure she has more to announce. I nod and wait.

“Can’t you cut it down.”

The neighbour had it with my leaves in her garden. Leave the tree dares to drop because it’s Autumn. It’s clear wanting a house with garden is not what nature lovers only do. I think, I need time to think this over. The house I live in is rented, the tree came with it and it is not really in my way although, I have to admit giants like these do not belong between. I do not care about the leaves. I use them to fertilize the soil plus they are fun for my pets to play with. She waits.

“If you know how I look at it.”

She clearly feels relieved and I go inside. How to cut down a tree? At the parking lots at behind our gardens are the same kind of giants. By now two fell down and missed my garden and shet by one centimeter. The city doesn’t care neither does the owner of the house.

Because the neighbour doesn’t entlight me I have a look at the site of the city. It’s not allowed to cut down a tree without permission. Papers need to be filled out, photos of the tree and the area be send and I have to pay for it. I feel annoyed I need to pay for filling out papers and do the job myself. What will it cost to cut it down?
I e-mail three people to ask for the price. All three pay me a visit and two send their offer by e-mail. It’s close to 1000 euros! Number three turns out to be a tree expert.

“I guess you don’t have much money,” he says.

I say nothing, what can I say? An offer is an offer and if I can not afford it there’s no deal. I wonder why the neighbour didn’t offer to take care of it or pay for it since she is the one who hates the tree.

“I make it 375 for you,” he says, “but I can’t do it for less.”

The tree is his and he will do the job alone. How exactly he managed it I can’t tell. The dentist waited for me.
Once back home he told me the tree nearly killed him. It broke into two parts. I assume he climbed into it, hung somewhere and fell with the part of the tree on him.

“That tree is not okay”, he said, ” I never thought that would happen and have a look at these”.

He pointed at the bumps on the trunk.

“These are tumours, there is something here that causes it.”

Radiation or? What exactly made this tree ill and what or who will catch it once this tree is gone. All the tumours are on the same side of the trunk. I look into the direction of a house. The house where a neighbour died of cancer. The only problem we have to deal with is a bad telephone connection.

“I’ll figure it out but my guess is it’s ‘het Gelredome’.

He shows me the area on his laptop and indeed the Gelredome is the only location where a large collection of transmission towers can be found.

The next day he finishes the job. The wood he will take with him. Good for his investors and most likely his next lecture at the Agricultural University.

“It will be wet here,” he says, “and if you kill a tree all the water and toxic it absorbed in its life will be set free too.”

The tree is good for over 500 litres of water and the amount of toxic it set free I better not think about. Without this giant, the pollution increased immensely and I feel miserable about it.

The neighbour didn’t thank me. After she made me cut the expensive Magnolia because the blossom made a mess in her garden, I killed an oak for her.

A few months later, at the start of a new year, permission to cut down a tree was no longer required.

#kittywu #life #nature #neighbours

Forty-Five

Forty-five

An insane hat was left behind on the marble floor. She smiled as she saw it and watched her through the doorway.

“Are you seeing somebody?”

She hesitated before she admitted she did.

“It’s just a guy, someone I met..”

“Met where, how?”

She shrugged and stared at the cup in her hands.

“You know.. just someone outside.”

She knew it was pointless to ask for more information but her senses told her something wasn’t right and the guy couldn’t be trusted.
“I promised myself not to resolve others their problems and I’ll stick to it,” she thought. “She has to deal with it herself, it’s part of growing up.”

It was hard to let go of her. She had always seen her as one of those fragile things in her life. She smiled at her and drank her tea.

It felt as if it had been ages ago but in reality, only forty-five days had passed. Forty-five days since that moment she had left, slammed the door behind her, wearing that insane hat. There never had been any need for her to be a life warrior. She could live without fear and enjoy life, the attention, all the good things offered. She knew she had lied and the only excuse she had was she needed her freedom. Sixteen… was it really her birthday? How come she forgot? Why did no one search for her? She started to cry. Did no one go to the police, reported she was missing? She kept her eyes closed and thought about the last time they met, the moment before she left. They had had breakfast together and there hadn’t been any arguing. She tried to turn on her side. Had something happened?

“I thought she was one of those people who never gave up. Did she give up on me?”

Was there anything she could do? She had been drunk, beaten up in the apartment and after that… It all turned into a miserable story, one she had never counted with.
What did she know? He had said she was the last one, the last member of his team. What did it mean? She swallowed. Her mouth felt dry, she had given up screaming for help days ago. He was right no one would hear her and no one would search for her

“Forty-five is enough,” she murmered, “today is the day. It’s true what they say. If you can’t beat them join them.”

It was about two weeks later a laconic officer discovered the crime scene. A young female was executed pure and simple. A single shot was fired. The job was done with precision. A four and five were found, painted with blood on a small piece of paper. It could be a lead but no one was interested in investigating the killing of what they assumed was a hooker.

#kittywu #story #freewrite