Finding the Ground Beneath the Feet. Владарг Дельсат

not my fingers, but it seemed like everything hurt. And… I had no idea what was going on with Frau Schmidt. I had no idea what her name was. «What is my name?»

      «Your name is Gabriella,» the doctor sighed and suddenly caressed my head.

      It felt so good that I reached out for his hand asking for more. I didn’t know what was happening to me. Everything was so strange…

      «Do not fear your condition. Memory loss is possible after a near-death experience. The good news is that the scar will not be noticeable at all.»

      Somehow, it seemed to me that those words had some hidden meaning, but of course, I understood it in my own way.

      «Thank you, Doctor,» I thanked him because I wanted to be polite.

      The news about the scar was really good. It meant that at least I wouldn’t be pointed at. I wondered if Willy Schmidt was my brother. He didn’t have a sister in the book. That’s probably why he didn’t: I died…

      The doctor had gone away on business, and I kept thinking about what was ahead of me. I couldn’t believe I was healthy, and my hands and feet hinted at the same thing. And if at that orphanage (well, in the book it was an orphanage because the boy was an orphan there), I was treated the same way as in the book, it meant… It meant they would beat me, and I could make it to the academy! In German schools, they beat children. I knew that for sure, but I did not remember when, but our teacher often told us that she would love to… «So,» I thought, «At school, you can get something that makes you breathe easier too. And later, at the academy, too, I suppose?» Life didn’t seem so terrifying anymore because before, no one just wanted me, but now, at least, I was hated (well, if I was in the book), and that’s a feeling already.

      I was lying there and thinking that perhaps Mariana had died. At last. But I couldn’t grasp why I was the one in pain again. I thought that it could be just hell. I’d gotten sick when I was Mariana and hurt my mommy and daddy, so I’d been punished for it, and now I was hurting again. And there’s a scary academy ahead. It’s magical, but it’s really scary because there are a lot of stairs. And stairs can give you pain. Maybe I would get killed there too. I mean, they wanted to in the book, but that boy, Willy, he wanted to live, and I… And I didn’t have to. I wondered how old I was and what I looked like. It couldn’t be Mariana, could it?

      I didn’t expect anyone to come to me, but someone did. It was a woman: she was thin and wore a strange dress, like a uniform in war movies. I didn’t know her, but she reminded me of someone… Well, probably the lady from the book who liked to beat Willy. «She must be from an orphanage,» I thought because the woman’s face didn’t express anything.

      The strange lady came closer, peered at me, and…

      «You damned freak,» she said almost in a whisper. «When are you going to die?»

      «Hello,» I answered and asked, «Excuse me, who are you?»

      «You little shit!» the woman aimed a blow at me.

      Then the door opened abruptly, and someone in doctor’s clothes prevented her from hitting me. Later, the police arrived, and more doctors asked me something, but something was buzzing in my ears and didn’t let me understand what was going on. I couldn’t hear anything and was looking at the people around me in confusion, but they didn’t understand that I couldn’t hear, and then the machine by the bed flashed, and the lights went off.

      «Do you understand me?»

      That doctor was standing right in front of me again. He was looking into my eyes as if trying to read something there, but I didn’t care.

      «I understand,» I nodded, and the lights went out again.

      The next time I woke up, they did something to me. It wasn’t scary, I only wondered why they were sticking a tube in… well, «there’. They also did something to my bottom, but it wasn’t painful. Then, the word «hospice’ came up, and I knew I was dying. I was upset because people die in hospices for a long time and suffer (I heard stories about this when I was Mariana), but I wanted to die quickly. But a man who looked like an angel (he even had a halo2) came and said there would be no hospice because he would take me away. I understood that the man was Death because it’s male in Germany. I was very happy and agreed – well, that he would take me. And the man who was Death told me that now everything would be fine and we would all live in a big house, bright and comfortable. I chuckled because I’d never heard anyone describe a grave to me like that before.

      It must have been a month before they pulled a tube out of… – well, out of «there’ – and put me in a wheelchair, which, of course, made me cry. Some curly-haired boy, whom Mr. Death called «son’, appeared beside me. It turned out that Death had children too, so only I was alone and unwanted. That boy, who was Death’s son, caressed me and began to ask me not to fear because everything would be all right. Then he hugged me, and I prepared to die.

      «What are you doing?» the boy asked me.

      «Getting ready to die,» I answered honestly. «When they die, they piss and poop, I know, so I need to sit there like this so the women don’t get angry because they need to clean too much.»

      «You’re not going to die,» the boy said as he looked around.

      Immediately this man, who was Death, came up and took me in his arms. It was so gentle, so warm that I cried again because I couldn’t help myself.

      «Why is she crying, Daddy?» the curly-haired boy, who reminded me of someone, asked.

      «Because she had no one, son,» replied the man holding me in his arms. «Depression is the worst executioner of special children.»

      They put me in a car and took me somewhere. Probably, to the cemetery to bury me there. Nobody wanted me, where else would they take me from the hospital? Either to an orphanage or to a cemetery…

      Fiancé

      We didn’t come to a cemetery but to a house. At the house, a woman met us, not like the one who came to the ward, but a very different one. She was kind. She said her name was Ms. Elsa, but I could call her… mother. I cried again because I got Mother, a real one, can you imagine? And the one I called Mr. Death turned out to be Dad. And the curly-haired boy’s name was Herman. I was definitely in a fairytale because that couldn’t have happened to me.

      «Do you want us to adopt you?» my new dad asked me.

      «Can I not be adopted?» I asked and explained immediately, «Well, not for real because I could pretend that Herman was my fiancé and I would have a future.»

      Dad smiled, and the boy (he heard what I said too) seemed to be on the verge of tears.

      «Do you need a fiancé for the future?» Mother smiled.

      «Well, if there is a fiancé,» I shared my thoughts, «Then one day there will be a family… I know I’m going to die anyway, but just for fun, can I?»

      My mother cried and allowed it, and Herman hugged me and told me how good I was. It got so warm, it was impossibly good. I had no words at all, only tears. I cried a lot that day, more than I think I had cried in my whole life.

      At lunch, it turned out that I had little willpower, and the pain made the tears flow. Dad even scolded me a little.

      «You mustn’t tolerate pain,» he said while caressing me. «If it hurts, you have to tell me.»

      I was ready for Daddy to take the belt, but he caressed and scolded me so gently that I wanted to cry again.

      «Aren’t you going to give me to a psychiatrist?» I asked because… well… «No psychiatrist, please.»

      «Poor baby,» my mother hugged me. «What have

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When the lamp illuminates from behind, the doctor may look like they have a halo around their head, especially if the patient’s vision is failing.