My memories

In my house, there was always unrest, many arguments between my parents, about money, the children's education, the car broke down again, the payment for food, whether I misbehaved, whether the other one misbehaved, that the oldest is disobedient, that we are savages, that the house dog made a mess everywhere, and I would flee to the yard and still hear the argument, but it was a bit more distant, and I dreamed that under the tree there was a hole that I entered, and like in Wonderland, I found myself in another place and a different and distant world, where happiness surrounded me and was transmitted to me, and I met crazy beings who offered me things to drink and eat, and I spent a pleasant and different time. 

That's why I sought to have all the versions of Alice in Wonderland and The Wizard of Oz.Those two movies made me travel to different places, taking me far away in my mind. The Wizard of Oz one, I saw the house spinning inside the tornado and my parents silent, dead with terror, and I saw things passing quickly by the window, and when I fell, I ran as far away as possible and heard them calling me back, but I knew they would start arguing again, this time about the hurricane.

I grew up and swore that in my house there would only be peace and tranquility, and if there were money problems I would seek to resolve them quietly.

I am now an adult, but my favorite movies will always be those that took me to a distant world: The Wizard of Oz and Alice in Wonderland. With them, I connected and made them my favorites over the others.

Whenever I can, I sit down to watch my favorite movies, and memories of those times that have long disappeared come back to me. 

After each argument, my father would go out to the garden to smoke a cigarette, but his face bore the mark of the fight he had just had. He wouldn't look at us; the three of us would sit on the garden step in silence, watching him, sitting from the oldest to the youngest, in order.

His gaze was directed only into the distance, as if with his eyes he could see through the house across the street and look beyond and further. He wasn't looking at anything, his mind was absorbed in the argument and the money, which according to him my mom spent like a millionaire. 

And I always saw her with the same twisted and almost broken shoes. Once, in response to my childhood questions, my mom told me: children are expensive. I didn't understand, maybe she bought me at a store where they sell children. 

I grew a little older and that was always the answer, but I discovered that the expensive part was keeping them until they became functional adults. 

That made me understand that the three of us were a very heavy burden for my dad, but what could I do at the age of ten? I couldn't change anything, and my escape was my favorite movies; my older brother would go play ball with friends from other houses, and my younger brother liked to play under the house, where he had to be taken out all dirty and covered in dirt, and then he had to be bathed and changed.