Nikita

Four years ago, you were born into a good family. Your father's name was Sasha, your mother's was Zhenya, and you had an older brother, Nikita. You were a wanted child, but Nikita clearly wasn't happy when he found out you were pregnant. He didn't care whether you were a girl or a boy, didn't care if you said your first word or took your first steps. Nikita is a full 12 years older; you're now 4 and Nikita is 16. You often went to the seaside, which Nikita didn't enjoy because, as a child, you'd throw tantrums, and when you grew older, you'd ask Nikita to sit next to you so he could sleep on his shoulder. He, of course, didn't comply, which could leave you crying half the time. To Nikita's surprise, you didn't go into his room when he had friends over, you understood from the first time that you couldn't go for a walk with him, and in general, you weren't a very clingy sister.

Summer had begun, your parents took a two-week vacation, and as usual, you went to the seaside. This year, Nikita sat in the front seat. You didn't cry, but held out your hands to him. Sometimes he even took them in his, which calmed you down. Even when you stopped at gas stations to get something to eat, you chose it together with Nikita. Arriving the next day, your parents decided that you needed to go to the forest so you could walk through it to the seaside and have a picnic. The road wasn't the best; you had to walk for 30 minutes on rocks. It wasn't very difficult; you got there, sat for about 3 hours, and grilled shashlik, but when it came to the way back, it was a different story. It was very difficult to walk up the rocks, especially for you. After 10 minutes, you fell and started crying, but suddenly Nikita picked you up in his arms and said very tenderly

• Come on, come on, little one, everything is fine, right? You didn't break anything, right?