Pensieve

I was reading the status of one of my friends from Romania on facebook and it reminded me of some things that I had experienced as a child and that I want to write about. I wish I would leave in a magical world and I could use the Pensieve to put my memories in. A Pensieve is an object used by Dumbledore in Harry Potter to review his memories. It has the appearance of a shallow stone basin, into which are carved runes and strange symbols. It is filled with a silvery substance that appears to be a cloud-like liquid/gas; the collected memories of people who have siphoned their recollections into it. Memories can then be viewed from a third-person point of view.
"I use the Pensieve. One simply siphons the excess thoughts from one's mind, pours them into the basin, and examines them at one's leisure. It becomes easier to spot patterns and links, you understand, when they are in this form."

Wouldn't that be just awesome? I could organize my thoughts and I could also understand them better that way. Sometimes I feel like I have so many scattered thoughts that it just kills me and being pregnant it make me more overwhelmed because I loose my thoughts so easily.

Back to my original thought, my friend said that she was hit by a man and that made her mad because nobody who was present defended her. it is sad how in Romania there is still a power that man have over women and I wonder why most people are afraid to say anything.
This reminded me of my childhood.

There was a neighbor kid who always broke my head with stones and glasses and stuff. I remember seeing people peek out their window and say nothing. I had a dear neighbor who took me in and clean me up each time she saw this happen. My mom told me that it was because of our nationality and that kids parents (especially dad) didn't like our nationality. She told me to stay away from him. He was this huge kid who didn't seem to have many friends.

Then I remember another incident when my brother was beaten by a neighbor with a towel rod. This guy just barely came home from prison and his poor wife was so excited to finally get him back. My brother was in a very bad condition and you couldn't even tell he was white anymore; he was also skinny and had some liver problems so he wasn't the toughest kid either. My mother was so upset that she took the whole thing to the justice system where she was told that she would never win the case because she was fighting against a Romanian; she was advised to just resolve the situation with the family. This family was from Moldova (Botosani or Vaslui). Most of our neighbors were from around there and they came to the city because of industrialization and because the communist leaders needed them to feel up the factories and the flats that they built in the place of so many houses. The lady was so homesick that she convinced her husband to go back home; I don't think she ever felt good in the city - she was a kind lady. So they left, but there was not much justice given to us. I remember always thinking that people from Moldova were so mean till I actually got to Moldova and to my surprise people there were so kind.

Then I remember coming home from school; a bunch of Hungarian kids on the bus and just as most of the kids they were talking and laughing. This did not go well because they were speaking a language that some did not understand and I remember that there were times when they were kicked and spit upon and nobody said anything. In case one of my friends fought back, which I think it is just natural when you are attacked, then he got into big trouble.

Now I wonder, why were people so slow in saying something? Why are people afraid sometimes to stand up by what is right? I was watching this show on ABC called What would you do? and they presented situations such as an HIV Positive person being persecuted for his disease and how people around him reacted. Of course they were all actors, but to my surprise most people did what was right while there were some that still had a stigma and would not want to be around a person who had such a disease.

I just hope that I would not judge or persecute others because of their differences; I hope I will see the best in others.

Now see why I would need a Pensive? I could just store all my memories and what is nice about it is that it can be viewed from a different persons point of view.