Because .... Mia

Our childhood was always very ... sad and also against beautiful.
We had a big house, everything we wanted. Mama was always there, and sometimes she went out to sea with Papa. But even there, we weren't alone, we had Magrid, an elderly lady, she was something like our nanny and grandpa. He was always there and told us stories. And my little sister ... Mia ... how shy she always laughed and smiled. She was so happy then. And when Papa came home, everything was even more beautiful, there was a huge party, they all received him so warmly in the harbor. We all had a lot of fun ... but sometimes at night when it was dark ... we heard strange noises from the cellar, once the two of us snuck our way to the cellar door, and in front of me Mama crouched and cried, every time she sat there we cried, cried bitterly .... she was so weak ... Papa was that monster who always made these noises at night and Mama always cried for him ... I don't know if Mia had understood it then.On her sixth birthday, papa came home again, he brought her a beautiful weapon:
“Girls have to be able to defend themselves! ", he had explained with a laugh. He always laughed. Two weeks later he died. That was, so to speak, the turning point of my childhood. I was then thirteen or seven years older than Mia. I could understand it. Mia didn't. She cried all night long , looking for when she couldn't do it anymore, she cried anyway. At some point mom had slapped her in the face and screamed:
"Shame on you, your father was a strong man, how would he think of you now, of this little whimpering girl?"
Mia stopped crying, she never cried again. I'm sure Mother wasn't trying to do that, she just wanted to make her realize that constant crying was no solution, coping with problems, but ... I'm not sure if you are really telling her that wanted, because ...
Mama was getting weaker from day to day, she perished from her own instability.She was weak herself. Mia didn't cry. She did not produce a tiny tear. She didn't pull a face, she was cold ... she lived on ... her eating habits got worse and worse, there were days when she ate nothing but a slice of bread. Grandpa and I were very worried about her back then, we told her why Papa had died, it was the only way to keep her alive .... I didn't like doing it, but it was necessary, there was no other way . When I was finally nineteen, I ran away from home too. I wanted to gain experience, to know how it went outside, outside, on the rest of the Grand Line. I learned quickly ... and I found him quickly ... now Mia could come, I thought at the time ... and she came ...