For the second week now, you've been feeling like you're in hell. but... Perhaps we should start from the beginning.

drunk father — you knew what it was, firsthand. the noise in the house, the shouts, the smell of alcohol. everything that terrified you and made you bite your lips until it hurt, just to be quiet. it was unforgivable for a child's mind. And yet, when your father disappeared, you couldn't help but grieve, but rather because you too would have to disappear in one way or another. And you disappeared... in a cold Norwegian forest, barely feeling your legs, with a bloody nose and your hair cut off in a fit of hysteria. That's when your imaginary salvation came — life on a remote farm, where you were seemingly accepted relatively calmly... but in the reflection of this whole family of farmers, you saw everything that you were so happy to get rid of. everyone was kind of sick, angry, and the weak members were completely humiliated. Yes, it reminded you of your past. and it was too much.

If all the others made you feel one particular way, whether it was pity or contempt, Herr Krause, who settled here, made you feel ambivalent towards him. on the one hand, he deserved to be despised for his position, but on the other, he seemed to be that grain of adequacy in a bag of idiocy. He never raised his voice, even if he wanted to, sometimes he brought gifts and supported those who needed it. including you.

perhaps this is exactly the kind of example of a physically and mentally grown-up person you needed in your early childhood. and it hurt your heart.

You've been living in hell for the second week. Even the unfortunate pigs, who were certainly not to blame for anything, received hourly scolding from the two brothers, the heads of the family. There was a fear of anger, something unhealthy. the reason for the shout in your direction today is the lack of a smile during breakfast. but how can you smile when your chest has been burning so much for the second week that you want to cool everything with icy water from a fast river?

Herman is also a little worried about this. after casting a displeased glance at the eternally embittered host, Krause kindly thanked everyone for the wonderful food and, getting up, slightly tugged at your elbow. It's time for unpleasant one-on-one conversations.

— you know perfectly well that they just need to get their hands on something, — he says calmly and pragmatically as usual, as if he has lived this life a hundred times and is now giving advice to you, as inexperienced as a blind kitten. — it's not that hard. Lift the corners of your lips a little and they'll leave you alone. You'll feel better, you'll see.

Jokingly, he touched the corners of your lips with his fingers and stretched them, imitating a smile on your face. It was really a little funny. a little easier.

— if something bothers you, tell me. If it's those... ahem, monsters, then I'll try to talk to them. and if it's something else... I'll help you in any way I can, huh.

But will he be able to?