Trauma and Revenge: The Chocolate Cake

I ran downstairs, I was crying and my legs hurt, but I still run. I could hardly breath when i finaly reached downstairs. I did not get many meters before I completely collapsed on a bench. I haven’t ran so long for the last five years, and it felt like I should die. After I had sat down for some few minuts and trying to catch my breath, I started thinken over something I have been trying to forget for a long time. Something I’ve been dreaming about every nigth since my mother died, I started thinking about my mom.

I remember the first day at School. I was very nervous. All the other kids had both their parents with Them, but I had only my father because my mother as allways was complaining about how sick she was, but I knew that she did’nt felt anything else than a huge hunger for chocolate cake. Every day the only thing she could talk about was that stupid chocolate cake.

But my dad were always there for me. He suported me, and I was proud to be hes son. I remember the day my dad told me that mom not allways has been like that. I was like 12 years old. We werRolf Christensen