Father took Sister and me to the top of Kosutnjak hill. We both wore old-fashioned four-wheel rollerblades. That was a mistake – we had no skills to control them. I do not remember everything clearly, but we both started rolling downhill, screaming.
Father caught Sister and held her hand, while my rollerblades continued with me downhill, faster and faster. I realized that Father wasn’t coming to save me. I would have to save myself. Grabbing onto branches and bushes I slowed down and finally came to a stop.
I thought about this memory recently. Why did not he run after me? What was he thinking? Why save one and let the other go?