communism in romania

i am coming from a rich armenian family. sadly they lost everything in the communism time. but kept few jewels for their two daughters. and my mom had only me. bad times i am not rich. but i am a princes. no kidding now. i am coming from a blue blood armenian family. they raned away because of the communists and found here other communists. but my grandpop was the poor of the family. he was the 9th kid. all boys. so for him remainded almost nothing to give.

my father was a surgeon. i say was because he doesn't exist for me, but he is alife, practicing. my mommy is economist and was a beauty. and if i say beauty, believe me, it is true. she was very nice and gentle person. just at home and at job. my pop was taking her every day and left her at her job and then came to take her home. she lives with me and my son.

she was 32 when they had a long walk. i was with them and saw him getting angry. she was wearing a new dress and looked just splendid. all men were looking after her, wished for her we stopped in a place, me and mom we had some juices and he drank 500 ml of cognac in twenty minutes.

he was dizzy and came back home. had dinner and he gave me a pill and obliged me take it. after 10 or 15 minutes i felt bit sleepy but my stomach couldn't stand that pill. throwed it out. was our luck. in another 10 min. i was deeply asleeped because that pill was something very strong, for adults.

i waked up fast, with the impression that something wrong, totally wrong was happening. i went in their room. in a corner was my mom. almost death, covered in blood, with knife cuttes all over her body, especialy legs - by the way i have got mine from her - breasts, face and hands - she tried to protect herself. i saw him, he was like a wild animal and i just took a chair and broked it in his head.

then i took my mom, she wasn't able to move, washed her a bit like it was important, and called emergency. in that time my father was the manager of the emergency station. so, they brought me lot of blood, catgut (this is for sewing wounds) and left me alone.

she passed out and my mom was dying. i was the one that took that chair. i tried protect her. it was about 11 pm. i took her easy, and bit by bit, also with some help from her, took her in my room, took all that i had for her, lot of water and locked the door. first it was a hard work to find a veine for a transfusion. she lost too much blood.

my luck is im not impressed by blood because i have seen lot of similar things in hospital since i was five. when i put the transfusion, had analgesic spray and sprayed her cuts one by one and sewed them. but like a kid not like a surgeon.

the result was that i saved her life, stopped bleeding, but she needed another operation to straight those wounds. it took me all the time untill 7 in the morning. she had 118 cuts. some of them very deep. some of them 40 cm long. in the next morning my mom was alife.

the animal waked up and could not believe what he done, but i already hated him for the rest of his life, and i was kid no more. but why your father get angry during walk? i know. and i am normal, and this is another miracle because she was too prety and didn't want other man look at her.

still unbelievable. well, that is why i am strong. and sometimes i think too much. and sometimes i am very bitter but still smiling. and believe me, when there is a athmosferic change she has terrible pains in all that old cuts.

when i was tooken from school, was in the 3-rd grade, they tried first to convince me to tell. i couldn't talk to mom to know what i must say or not. so i told nothing. and one of the police men droped "by accident" a piece of heavy metal on my hand. he broked me two fingers. never trusted them again. was shure they want a scandel not the true. when i came home, mom, who was in such a bad condition cried for my fingers. i sweared ill never cry. well, i was talking only about police.

and if i didn't trust you i never would tell you my so sad story i am ok. always was ok. ever think that id could be worse. and mom is happy with me and my son. as for my father, didn't even see his face in the last 25 years. now i don't feel anything for him. a long time i hated him. now he is drowned in my indifference. does'nt matter if he is rich or poor, healthy or ill, alife or death. he is no more, don't know him, words spoken from my friend dumiflorin.