My World was my home. We three in the world (Me and my parents).
My room. My toys. My parents. My space. I own so much here. For the first four years, I was in the zone as if everything that I own is indispensible, it was taken for granted for me, as if this is how the world is everywhere. As if everyone owns their little world (or whole world) like this. Unquestionable.
Anything I want, I can go and pick it, use it, do what I want to do, with instructions of course. Pick a ball, a paper, a remote, or even to catch the sunlight. I never imagined that there are dependencies and that there are some external forces that control my life or my parents' life. Sun, rain, light, toys, money, laughter, dinner - to me everything was mine, and I owned all these.
My clear and white eyes were a testimony to my world - without a strand. Without a question. No uncertainty. No layer. Only plain life as it is meant to be.