The white wall - Aitan Bagirova

"You too? I thought I was the only one who saw such bad taste in a person's clothes and conversation."

"Oh, if only they had the slightest notion of what really means the bad taste in conversation" – was indignant and thought to herelf Psyche.

"Yes, she definitely felt like a fish out of water."

"That's right, she doesn't need to come to such events. It doesn't suit her. That’s not hers."

"You are right, people don't understand how to live in society at all."

– "We always want the best for the person."

It would seem what such a grandiose thing was done by that unfortunate woman, which caused a flurry of negativity and a storm of emotions in mothers. Her kid died. The daughter. And all the people just gathered in honor of this event in the life of Failia. This was another reason for Psyche to be disillusioned with people. It was unpleasant for her to realize that people took even such a pure and sincere thing as death in an ignorant way. For such people, the death of a familiar person is another way to get together, to show their "superiority" in appearance and in position in society.

“As if Failia needed the pseudo – involvement of strangers in her life and their pseudo-support”, Psyche thought. "She just wanted peace and solitude, without all the hypocrisy and arrogance that musty society has to offer. Services of society for which you pay with your inferiority and state of mind, but you get either nothing or even more damage. People have one thing in mind – to show that they participate in the life of society. They want to help everyone, to be praised and appreciated. And after all, sometimes there is something for it, but sometimes, unfortunately, it is a cheap acting game."

Meanwhile, the father was also awake. He started having breakfast and as always paid attention to the quality of the tea. In his opinion, tea should be brewed correctly, following some instructions. Only Psyche became more and more convinced that her father had probably not read the instructions of life fully, or had not read them at all.

Although he was a literate and educated person, and there was something to talk about with him. But, alas, such moments in their lives were rare. They didn't talk much, and they didn't try to figure out who or what they were, and they didn't understand each other. They failed to give experience, their vision, and fill their presence in each other's lives with energy. The father did not try to please the family and took everything for granted, without trying to revive any common worthwhile values. However, he was a sympathetic, kind and gentle person, because in life there were many situations where he did not leave a person in trouble if there was a chance, whether it was his relatives or strangers.

One day a father brought someone else's child home. The child belonged to a good friend of his. She asked for help because she couldn't look after the girl because of work. Psyche did not think that the girl's mother was a bad person, and the child was interesting, sweet, and her eyes were full of hope. The girl's clothes were snow-white, and the bows looked like snowflakes. "Father just brought this child to us, but it was I who helped her deal with her inner world. Hmm, and yet, what is a boon?” – thought the young lady, while spending time with the daughter of dad’s friend, playing with her and offering the piece of white paper and colored pencils. And the mother talked a little with this, in her opinion, amusing child, they had fun, and they fell asleep together, because Psyche was not willing to sleep with Jeanne in the same bed.

3

Wearing her favorite white dress, Psyche decided to go for a walk, get some fresh air. She liked to wander around the park that was next to her house. The heartbreaking scenery and imposing sounds of the ocean waves always smite her on the spot. However, even the power of nature could not take over her mind and make her stop thinking and just enjoy everything that was happening.

"The father tries to please his brothers and sisters. And the mother is zealously engaged in what pleases society. Deforming each other and themselves, they do not notice how they try to understand others, how they adapt to others, how they try to prove something to others, but not to themselves and not to their family, which they consider as "the cult of life",-thought Psyche, sighing heavily.

"I never thought that being a foster child would be such a heavy burden. Most people will never even dream of seeing which composition are performing the notes of my soul." Psyche was not upset by this fact, and sometimes she was even glad of it. For her, being such an atypical child is another opportunity to feel like not an average person who understands and accepts everything much deeper, sees and thinks more. In her opinion, the word "non-average" is the highest compliment. Even though she knew that at the end of the day, we were all the product of selfishness, and we will remain it forever, and more than that, we will reproduce the same product.

The girl's mother was very concerned. Her daughter hasn't been home for a long time. She rushed to the phone and dialed Psyche's number endlessly. She didn't answer.

"Is there anything you can do? she said to her husband.

"What happened?” the girl's father asked.

"Psyche has been out of the house for a long time, and I can't reach her!"

"I think she's coming soon, and maybe her phone is dead. She will come and explain everything to us"

"Why don't you understand that this is very strange! She had never stayed so long without warning! Something has happened