From the author: Very boiling. "Day ass stuck" in orphanages takes place regularly. And year after year ask the same themes, arguments... we rarely manage to persuade. They will still carry the candy to the orphanage. The last time I get involved in such a dispute. Not anymore. Below is my very long last word.
Your house is a mess, the kids are sick and disgusting behave. Do they always get sick, here you have kids.
They make you eat badly, sleep badly and do not really feel. But you love them.
But imagine that one day came to you.
Came and said the children you have a bad disease they are bad and you're dangerous.
No, you certainly agree that it is not a cake, but your but. Dangerous?
While you think about it, why would you have gone, put in the car and driven away. Where??? Wait, what children??? What's going on???
Wait, there are children!!! Hold you tight.
You're slow, so surreal what is happening.
The car pulls up to a bright positive raskrashennoy the building. Closed iron gate.
You more for them will not work, but you don't know it.
You keep thinking that this is all some silly misunderstanding, a bad dream, we must Wake up.
Look. Around the flower beds. The flowers they trampled, though it is evident that there tried to make nice, presentable. What's going on?
You get in the building.
Some unknown child announces that you are now going to live here.
You brought in the room.
It has 8 beds. Here is the toilet. Here locker. That's your bed. All.
In the next room the other parents.
They numbly watching the show.
Someone looks out the window. Someone picking his wall.
You sit down on a chair and ask "Where am I?".
You're home. This is your home now.
"Where are my children?".
On this question nobody will answer. They don't know.
They do not know where their children are with them.
They are nobody says. It is not necessary.
There is a hot regular food.
Clean bedding and clothing.
The mode of the day. All for life.
All that you need. Have you given these children?
That's why you're crying again?!
Do not disturb others watch TV!
Yes, the food is great, and the bed is so nice and light and clean.
But you don't notice.
What about my children? They are sick!
Who will be treated? Who will live?
When are they coming? I want doooooh!!!
Will suit any little girl.
Say gentle voice that in fact uncle also children now there. And this aunt.
But the woman actually did not know about them, they abandoned her, barely born.
And see — no one makes a fuss. I is your daughter.
You will likely have little to soothe what others don't cry.
But some certainty.
If you want to embrace this docco substitute because you're scared and lonely because you miss and worry about their children, most likely you'll get suspended.
But others too want? Yes, I have you all wanting to hug, not enough!
The night will come and you will be very scary.
Sleep will not go.
In the next bed a man swinging and howling.
On the other hand, a woman sucks your finger to the bloody blisters, so loudly that this cocagna as much cringe.
In another corner of the room Masturbates another man.
Someone's crying children.
Someone picks his Boo-Boo to the terrible plagues, some people chew their nails, twirling hair, tossing on the bed.
Who will Wake up in the middle of the night with a cry of horror — one child murdered another child in front of him...
You're not in a psychiatric hospital.
You find out that your home now is called "the House of specialized parent".
It will be every night.
You get used to it.
After some time you are also going to do that, it'll help you forget, to be distracted from missing their children, from anxiety and suspense.
Yesterday, the girl will finish your shift and leave.
In its place will be another girl, who also will now docco substitute.
To your question "what happened yesterday?" the answer is one — went home.
Over the fence.
To their parents.
Yes, she has her own parents.
She is not your daughter. Remember. No child your not.
And your children — bad.
You along with all the other parents go to the toilet. Going to sit there in the common room.
And with the door open.
So it should be.
Then naskoryak wash, show where your towel is.
Dress. You might even be funny to see a pot-bellied bearded man in pink jeans with rhinestones and aunt in the men's sweater.
Until then, until you discover that your clothes no better.
Someone's pants worn the wrong size the first thing you'll have to wear.
Get used to it.
You no longer have anything of his own. Even cowards.
And the buttons from the clothes of the son, torn and squeezed into a fist in the moment when you took the children and hid under the pillow...
The buttons, the only link with home, with the past life, she was gone.
It was taken away.
Those who also have nothing left. You will not find.
However, you're still going to hide under the pillow everything you want to keep, to hide from others. In vain.
And it is useless to ask for Breakfast and coffee. You will only give the correct balanced meals in prepared by the Ministry of health dosage.
Do you want more? It is not necessary. Don't want to eat?
Better would you like supplements. Feed force.
You need to eat.
You even now need to do what you say.
You are obliged to obey implicitly any child.
For your own good.
Now forward March to the class.
Going to teach the biography of local MP. He is just today coming sponsorship we provide.
After class walk.
You're going to trample with others in a small pen.
Longingly looking through the bars of the fence to life for him. There will be people, cars, children will go with their parents. Some will be sorry to see you "poor nobody needs parent" and go on about their business.
Some children will wince in disgust and turn away your parents from you — surely you are some sick, bad, terrible genes.
Is well over the fence to the house parents get parents of good children?
If someone decides to talk to you, then get shouting — you and your companion. It is not necessary.
You're a parent jealously protected by the state. You drag from the fence and scolded.
And you sincerely don't understand what you insulated your wine.
Lunch, Conchas, afternoon tea... Come the Deputy.
You tell learned his biography. MP poses for a photo on the background of the parents.
Each of you will give candy. Remember this candy. This is relevant to you.
Candy is a way of communication with you.
Come volunteer and show concert.
Children will make you laugh and make you cry
Because you miss your children.
You'll find them among these children, but you will not find. You withdraw from the hall, apologizing "I'm sorry, recently seized a parent, haven't adaptirovatsya" and signout at you "well shut up! you will not behave, ever your children for you will not come".
You accept that you cannot go over the fence to their children. You will try to behave well, to respect the day and eat well.
No, it's not a ward and not a prison. A "house parent specialized".
Behave is your only chance to see their children.
Told you that those in whose power you are.
If the children did not come, it means you're bad.
A night in the next bed howling and the rocking.
You get used to it.
It will held day after day.
Sometimes you without an explanation will be put in the car.
Do not hope, you do not carry to the children. Taking you to the hospital. The state takes good care of your health.
Will close in a separate box. Examine, back.
Someday maybe a miracle will happen, you will see the window of their children.
Are you going to beat on the glass and cry.
But you will not be allowed. They are not recovered, they to you not. Six months later, you'll hear fragments of conversations with your daughters around here that your children are deprived of the rights of children.
You will begin to walk the other kids.
Go and figure out will suit you or not?
If not, give me a Lolly and disappear.
Remember this candy.
Every incoming child is likely to buy you candy.
To entertain, to give gifts, to be touched, how eagerly you eat candy.
If you don't eat, you will lose them to other parents.
No, they don't want candy, they want you too, there was nothing like them.
But in the new year the candy will be so much that you will play them in football.
You get used to get candy for what you parents are orphans. You're sad without children? Don't be sad. On candy.
You don't have to learn the basics of quantum physics?
Well, don't cry. On candy.
You don't like bearded man in the pink jeans? well, what can you do... sweetie, calm down.
Come nephews. Will bring cookies. Take you home can not — they have their parents, and a little flat...
One day you'll put in the car.
But lucky not in the hospital.
You will be lucky in the new parental home.
To the other parents. To other subsidiaries.
But every day will be like all previous. With each passing day, with each new child in your life inside the fence you will understand this simple rule of life — the children of the world.
They do not care for you. But they have candy. Do you still remember that you had children... But you don't remember what they look like... Everything seems somehow not real, if it was not.
Now you'll ask each child "what did you bring me?". If the child says that does, you're offended.
Choyta? Don't ruin my picture of the world, boy!
Give me the candy and fuck off. And if the child says she wants to be a parent had it, you all fear will be throbbing.
And if and home you go away, whoo, then you tell him everything and show. First and foremost, do not believe him. But if you do take.
The time will come, you will need to learn.
Everything will be the same — any of her children, the children with candy children.
You are also going to address them. For candy.
And you'll learn to make soap, but for the years spent in the parental homes, you forget that it is necessary to wash Windows.
Good children will teach you how to weave with beads and knitting. I don't care if you have biology not going well, and you want to return to your Institute of biological problems.
You'll be able to turn the sushi, but don't remember how to cook porridge.
You have to be a very cool life — branded clothes, entertainment, gifts from sponsors.
And here you have it... forty-or even forty.
Your time is over served.
It's time to leave to get a profession. what? You don't want to plasterer painter?
You had plans to return to the profession, in that case, which was before there was a trouble with your children?
No. I'm sorry, but the country's shortage of plasterers-painters.
Yes, you don't remember anything, lost skills.
Not just workers.
Do you not know how to live without an order of the children where to go and what to do. Over fifteen years of habits to live to a ready habit to get candy instead of a relationship, you no longer know how to live in a world where there are children and parents.
You get in a pack with the same disoriented parents.
What is going to happen here... even there are no statistics. It is not interesting. You're not a parent, candy is no more. Live as you know.
But you're an adult. Now imagine what that does to the child from such a life. published
P. S. And remember, only by changing their consumption — together we change the world! ©
Join us in Facebook , Vkontakte, Odnoklassniki