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Unwanted child - стр. 41

The boy felt no emotion associated with the photograph and the place where he and his father were. It wasn't that he didn't understand where they were now, or whose urn was in front of him. It's just that the kid lost his mum too soon, with little or no memory of her. In a way, given the unfortunate nature of the situation around him, it helped him avoid another childhood trauma associated with his mother's death. He knew and understood that at a certain period of his life she was not around. Therefore, the little boy did not have time to become attached to her in order to mourn the premature loss of his mother every day. The boy only remembered that his father often brought him to the hospital and that he was sometimes held in his arms by a woman whose face was not preserved in his memory. She was always coughing, she felt sick, the baby would start crying loudly and his father would take him in his arms again.

– Inna, I miss you every day. We were just starting to live with you. Why was I so powerless to do anything for you? To save your life… – Lars spoke sadly, turning to his deceased spouse. Theodore looked at his father again. He took a small flask filled with strong liquor out of his jacket and took a few big gulps.

– What are you looking at me for? Sitting there like nothing happened… You'll never understand my grief! Do you want to know how she died? – Lars glared at his son with anger in his eyes, taking a few more sips from his flask.

– YOU killed her! She had dreamed for years that we would have a child. And then you came along and finished her off! You shameless little demon who drank all the life out of his mother and drove her to her grave! – Lars shrieked at Theodore, rising from the table and tilting his head upwards, gulping greedily down the liquor container, literally sucking every last drop out of it. Theodore turned away and shrank back, as if trying to blend in with the table so as to be invisible to his father. Lars scrambled back and forth, clutching his head as if trying to quiet the voices inside him.

– And now, ha ha…how ironic…now you've taken on me too. You want me to go to my grave! But you know what? I won't let you do to me what you did to my wife! No, you don't have to try… – Lars, thinking hysterically and gesticulating impulsively, looked like an uncontrollable lunatic, ready to snap at any moment, which couldn't help but frighten Theodore. The boy got off the bench and climbed under the table, trying to hide from his father. He noticed this and went after him, cursing at his son and trying to drag him out of hiding. The clumsy, tipsy man bumped his head on the table, which the child took advantage of, quickly crawling out and heading for the door.

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