Dear my stars

第7話Ikuko

I was alive by my mother who died at the age of 40 till I’m twenty years old.

My father dispatched during wartime and lost his life there.

My mother Shizuko Tsutsumi was unmarried, bore me and deposited with her parents.

I certainly think my grandparents passed away when I was three, but since I was taken over by my mother I have no memory of a smile.

I understood as I grew older, but my mother was rare in times of encouraging postwar reconstruction, and was the woman who pioneered child abuse.

She threw things to me when sake and tobacco burst, raised a loud voice took a groundbreaking request and asked for money.

By the way she didn’t work and I earned my living by doing shoeshopping and doing housekeeping work before I learned hiragana.

But in Japan that was poor then, I think that there was none of children who could earn enough money for their living by using a booth.

She probably couldn’t understand such a situation.

She knocked me and kicked me out of my anguish unless I offered money.

And at a later date, from liquor stores, I received a message saying she worked stealing, I gradually paid bribes from all the money I had no my store.

Of course she didn’t know anything about reflection, nor did she know.

“What! Are you stinging with my play?”

No matter how I persuaded her, she surely roared such a voice that way, she repeated the same thing over and over again.

My food expenses couldn’t have been left in the life that gave her “pocket money” through the shops.

Even if money remained, she couldn’t prepare my meal.

Nevertheless, I ought not to have starved to death, thanks to having one of my neighbor’s housewives divide the steamed potatoes one day.

Modern children would not believe it, but at that time meat and eggs were luxury goods.

For sweets such as chocolate and candy, American soldiers with mine scattering on the street, children picked up and eat.

Because crops didn’t grow up due to lack of manpower and fertilizer, everyone surpassed starvation by eating potato instead of rice and “snacks”.

But my mother didn’t try to live by herself until the end.

“Why can’t you hear what I say! Bring money early! Please help me!”

When she makes a boyfriend she is thrown away, drinking is hit by me.

Until the moment she takes her breath with acute alcoholism, she cries everyday and night and repeats that cycle.

Only six months after her death, I fully compensated for liquor she shoplifted for birth.

However, I was already in such a mind that I mixed dark black with black.

Until now the inhabitants fished me with potatoes, they took my mother to make liver easier to steal, and wasn’t taking more money than I needed.

Because she was dead and the excuse was gone, they would not call me who paid a satisfying amount.

Indeed, the steamed potatoes which were my daily breads were discontinued.

Before I became suspicious, I was making a wall of my heart to protect myself from others.

In order to make the wall even thicker, I avoid saving the eyes except work and started saving money the following month when I finished paying.

By the way, after graduating from junior high school, I worked at a small and medium enterprise factory, but since it was the heyday of the bubble economy, in any occupation considerable amount of money was collected only by summer winter bonus.

In addition to that I knew the end of my mother’s death, I didn’t handle any kind of liquor, tobacco, play or anything else, so I never got lost in the life after the collapse of the bubble.

Fortunately, I didn’t become one of the people lamented by the decline of unemployment and economic power, but my mind and body was lost as though it was contained in a coffin bag.

No matter how much we have accumulation there is no point of there is no pleasure.

Still I’m restless unless I make walls of mind with money.

Since I didn’t know the pleasure of living from a young age, even if I died this way, there is no obstacle or premise.

If I’m not married, I’m not giving birth.

If there’s no such schedule in the future, there will be no one who grieves my death.

I want you to scatter quickly, such as my empty life!

I thought so many times, I was trapped in the dark clouds until my twenties and I survived.

Even if I was thirty, my wish didn’t come true and I was breathing in my mind, but I began to be conscious of my family somehow.

Maybe because they got married, they got to hear the conversation of colleagues revealing private with each other that they are giving birth.

Even so, I couldn’t say that it was funny that I was waking up to motherhood even though my mind was not even budding.

What I didn’t find in my mother was not handed down to me, her daughter.

If such a birth comes from me, the child must suffer like me.

Jealousy for colleagues taking about happiness with a smile got up and I came to acknowledge my own change at age 32.

I want a warm family that the sun’s sun has reached!

I didn’t even know what it was like, and I kept asking myself at the age of forty.