Sad Marriage

That's what I've known her for in a journey story. A scared-eyed, wounded geese. He was only seventeen yet. His fiancee's bracelet shone on his arm the most.

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She had her hair in a tight ponytail. He had a small but straight posture. A shirt with bright fabric on, under black pants. None were not for age. Just his face.

He was beyond his years. I saw a little girl before me. Yet he was preparing for marriage. Your consent? I asked in my hottest voice. He said yes. I was surprised. Because my fiancee will take me to Germany and I will continue to high school and university. What else do I do besides living in a tent if I stay here and serving fifteen people in this city in the winters.

Mother is dead. My brothers are with me. I can't say it's my dad. I was reading. When Anam died, he took it from school. Then came this boy, so my fiance. His family emigrated to Germany and are from our hamlet. My father told his father he was in an age you were married. My father said no.

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But then they said good. Said OK. Not my sister's money. I pulled the kid. He's a decade older than me. I spoke out of my father's secret. I said you're gonna read me. I don't want anything else.

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