A memory

 New neighborhood... New life... I was now living on my own streets that I had never even driven through before... Now every tiny thing in these places belonged to me. So I slowly got to know everyone. But there was one thing I could never make friends with... Children who live in a house a few houses away from ours! They were two boys and a girl, and to me they belonged to a group of pirates.

 Every day, when I came home from school, I was worried about these "bullying" children, not about the barking dogs. I passed by that house slowly and silently. Sometimes, when they saw me, they would attack me with their stones or sticks, and I would run away like the wind. All three were much younger than me. But I was afraid. I had a terrible fear in my heart for them. They were always on the street…

One day I saw that landlord-father of the family in a very bad condition on the street. He was drunk and barely able to walk. Later, I heard a lot of bad things from several people. Only after that I started to think that maybe the environment in the family is not good either. How could such a family leader give good attention and love to his children. Then those "robbers" came to my eyes. They were almost always on the street. They played in their own way, they were happy in their own way. I started to like them...

One day I returned from school as usual. They were playing with mud on the street again. I didn't run away this time. I couldn't even think of escaping for some reason. The girl started coming towards me with a ball of clay in her hand. Laughed. I smiled and said "Hello". He ran towards the gate with a strange look on my face. On that day, my heart overcame the fear of those cheerful children and took the first step to make friends with them.

Later I became very close with them. We became sisters. After they went to school, sometimes we returned from school together. Our childish conversations were wonderful and pure.

 After some years, we moved out of the neighborhood and I did not see them again. They are not on the street anymore. Games are also a memory of the past. It is unknown to me... But as a part of that space I loved, they are still in my heart... And, of course, they will be remembered with love and longing.
 
Shahnoza Ochildiyeva
1st year student of the University of Journalism and Mass Communications of Uzbekistan