A small boy sat alone in his room, drawing a small picture.
He, his parents, and his little sister were there.
He was coloring it, trying hard to make it look good.
Suddenly…
he heard the sound of arguing from outside the room.
He stopped his hand from drawing.
He hesitated for a moment, then quietly got up and walked toward the door.
He opened it slowly… peeking outside, trying to understand what was happening.
He opened the door a little more…
the voices grew louder.
He couldn't hear all the words,
but the tone of anger was loud, frightening, and disturbing to him.
He saw his parents standing opposite each other.
Their faces were tense.
He stepped back without realizing it.
His small fingers pressed against the doorframe,
as if trying to protect himself.
He looked at his hands…
they were stained with paint.
He thought for a moment:
Why can't things stay as beautiful as in my drawings?
Then…
he heard a soft click of the door behind him.
He returned to his room slowly,
carrying a picture that no longer resembled his family as it had minutes ago.
He sat down again,
staring at the drawing…
and did not continue.
He moved away from the door…
sat on his bed, hugging his knees to his chest,
while the sounds of arguing still reached him, pounding against the walls.
He thought long and hard.
He did not understand that all this was because of money,
but he understood one thing:
every argument tries to escape him.
Suddenly, he lifted his head,
a small idea lighting up inside him.
If money is the problem…
then I can help.
Before the night fully fell,
and before anyone noticed his absence,
he quietly got up.
He put on his old coat,
opened the door very slowly,
and slipped out of the house without making a sound.
He did not look back.
He thought it would be simple…
he would work,
earn some money,
then return.
Then…
the arguments would stop.
He did not know
that this small step
would be the first step on a path from which he would never return the same.
The small boy continued walking down the street.
The cold bit his skin, and darkness wrapped around him like a thick curtain.
Each step was silent, as if etched on the cold pavement.
He stopped for a moment, looking at the house he had lived in for years,
feeling the weight of leaving, and said goodbye without anyone noticing.
Then, from the shadows, he saw something familiar…
his little sister walking alone, her natural curiosity guiding her fearlessly.
He stared at her in shock,
aware that he could not leave her alone in this cruel world.
He approached her, speaking in a soft voice:
"Come with me… you can't stay here by yourself."
She hesitated for a moment, then stepped toward him with small steps.
It was the first time he realized that strength is not just a weapon,
but a responsibility toward those you love.
With every step away from the house,
he began to understand that this moment…
was not just an escape,
but the first step toward a fate greater than any child could imagine.