Hello my dears! Nikouki-chan is speaking here, not like usual, totally over-the-top, or just before hyperventilating, no, this time I'm very serious. This time Jeys didn't promise me a psyscho story, no, I, Nikouki, you owe one for several weeks. It's due now. So please do not be angry that it will not continue with "Hundearlarm" for the time being. Next time ... for sure !!






It was in the middle of the coldest night of 1798. The icy snow mixed with hailstones. The icy cold penetrated the little girl's marrow and bone and there was no place in the big, wide world where she could warm herself or dry her wet clothes. Aisha belonged to the outcast clan, so to speak. Her mother died relatively early and her father wanted nothing to do with her. In his eyes it was just a small "blemish" that did not fit into his otherwise unmarked world.Her paternal grandparents thought this or something similar about the only granddaughter. The two older people belonged to the wealthier circle of the big city in which Aisha grew up. Her aunt and uncle, the couple's younger son, still lived with his parents; for this reason he had very different privileges than his big brother. His wife, loved and respected by everyone, was unfortunately unable to have children of her own. Aischa had often been sad because she had wished so much for a cousin. She had spent a lot of time with her aunt, who she had always believed at least could understand Aisha. Often she even stayed there. She had always been very fond of her uncle too. Often the girl had even believed that she could at least replace her aunt's children a little, but Aischa was wrong in this assumption. No one could replace the woman's child, neither Aischa nor her mother, who had always lovingly cared for the often completely desperate aunt, nor anyone else.However, this assumption should soon prove to be a mistake: Aischa's aunt soon bought one pet after the other and the one-time "favorite niece", who had meant so much to her, was gradually removed from the cute little fluff balls Ousted the lives of the grandparents and the aunt. Only the still stable friendship between Aischa's mother and aunt made the girl valuable to the embittered woman. Otherwise she was just a block on the leg of the rest of this part of the family.


The girl had hardly a single memory of the grandparents on the other side of his family. Both died in a terrible car accident a year ago. Her mother had neither a brother nor a sister.


At the latest after the death of her mother, Aischa had to realize the cruel truth: She had only owed her mother for the short time of happiness.But that time was over for several months now. Because no sooner was her mother underground than her remaining relatives made it unmistakably clear that she was by no means wanted. After only a week left to mourn, the child was dressed in a rough fabric that hadn't even been able to hold back the light drizzle of the past few days and offered her no protection from the cutting cold of the previous months.


Now Aisha walked lonely and frozen through the dark alleys of the city of Paris. It was Christmas Eve, but no one looked at her when she had begged rich customers from the "upper class", as her mother had always called these people, in front of a prestigious shopping boutique, to treat her to the little luxury at least on Christmas Eve. to be able to buy something to eat at one of the bakery shops. Nobody had given her a cent. Aischa had made her way to the garbage cans of the luxury restaurants with her now empty eyes and growling stomach.On her way she had met many of her old playmates, all of whom knew Aisha's sad story. But none of the boys and girls had given her even the briefest glance, let alone wasting a word about her on their parents. The starved girl had waited in vain for an invitation to dinner, in the eyes of these people she was a criminal, an indefinable something that it would be better not to bring into your house if you were to see the next morning or not be affected by an incurable disease wanted to be.


The snow drift increased by the minute, the wind also grew stronger and thicker and thicker hailstones left reddish marks on Aisha’s arms and legs, and her face, which until recently was quite pretty, was not spared from the ugly streaks. When the blowing snow got so bad that the girl had to shelter in one of the house entrances, the shy child didn't even notice where she was at first, Aischa only knew that she was bitterly cold.Then, when the worst cold spell had left Aischa's body and she was slowly getting a little warmer again, she looked around fearfully: Too many street children were killed on winter nights like these by older residents of the gutter, and that only because of the body heat and mostly sparse clothes they wore on their bodies. After Aischa was sure that no other homeless person had followed her, she took a closer look at her immediate surroundings. The child had ended up in the painter's quarter. It was in the entrance to one of the few painters' shops that could afford to hire apprentices and that could work to order. In the small shop window there were mainly family portraits of one or the other family with whom her father had been in contact in the past. They all looked so happy. They certainly all had a roof over their heads on this special holiday and did not have to fear for their lives, because they all had something so infinitely precious, against which even the most valuable jewelery faded and became something worthless: They were loved by someone.

And then Aischa saw what she would never have suspected here: a portrait. But not just any picture, no, it was one of the few pictures in which she had stood with her mother, her father and also with the parents of her mother and father, even with aunt and uncle in what appeared to be a family idyll. At that time, Aisha was still a baby, the best proof of which was the infant in her mother's arms. Slowly, with tears in her eyes, she slowly walked to the pane of glass that kept her away from the interior. At that moment, however, she felt like just another harassment. The window was just as cold as the rest of the outside world. Aisha's fingers gently touched the window glass. Just as gently, she leaned her head against the cool glass. Her breath formed little clouds of condensed water in the cold air. A lonely tear ran down the girl's cheeks, flushed from the cold, and finally fell to the floor.It only took a few seconds for the salt water to freeze to ice on the stone floor.


Two pieces of evidence that Aisha was still alive. Wasn't there a law that forbade you to simply put a defenseless child outside the door? And why did men only receive preferential treatment? Had she always been only her relatives' toy? Why did she even wonder something so nonsensical? Aisha knew the answer a long time ago. Yes. Nobody but their maternal grandparents and their mother herself had ever liked them, so they had to die too. And she, Aisha, had to go, too, and only for the reason that she had always overheard her own family making plans to put each other out. She also knew something completely different about her aunt: she wasn't the reason why she had no cousins, no, it was all down to her uncle. She had once seen her aunt looking at pictures of a little boy: her son.The boy was much more popular than she and was to inherit everything one day. Therefore, her other grandparents also had to die in an accident and her mother had to be removed so that she could not give birth to another child besides her. And Aisha had to remove these people because after the death of her mother she would have been the heir to a huge fortune. Marius would get anything, because even her own father had been involved in the plot. He liked this strange boy better than his only daughter, his only heiress.


No, Aisha no longer wanted to live in such a cruel world. She could no longer have a clear thought. As if driven by an invisible force, she smashed the thin pane of glass with her hand and took the only picture of her mother left to her from the shop window. When she withdrew her arm, she made herself several more or less deep cuts. In her infinite joy, however, she did not notice it.Aischa pressed the picture tightly against her and inhaled the smell of the leaf, as if she could then perceive her mother's perfume again. She was successful: the smell of rubbish and excrement from the many people who lived in far too confined spaces gave way to the gentle scent of rose petals and pine needles that her mother had always worn, the unmistakable scent of her mother. Overjoyed, Aisha sank into the snow, sank into the sleep of infinite peace.


The next morning a couple of the apprentices found the stiff body of the little girl lying in the snow, surrounded by traces of blood. The picture she was clutching was placed in the expensive coffin with her, because Aisha's father had also been found on the basis of the picture. To this day, no one in this world knows, whether out of pity, decency or out of love: The family paid their last respects to the child: the little one was buried in the family crypt. Aisha's suffering came to an end: Now she is with her mother for all eternity, who she really loved.



So! Hopefully it was now at least reasonably possible ... As a small compensation for the "unfortunately" not published "Hundearlarm" part, Jeys and I came up with a FF with only one part! Be curious!


P.S .: Commissioners are very welcome ... especially criticism so that I can improve a bit.




Your Nikouki-chan