I have been married for ten years. My husband and I live in a mortgage two-bedroom apartment. We are paying off the loan. We do not dare to have children yet. We want to get on our feet first. I have a brother. He is also married. They live in their one-room apartment. My brother works two jobs, and on top of that, he has a part-time job. His wife Monika does not work. She just gives birth with the speed of a rabbit. They already have three children, she is pregnant with the fourth and is planning the fifth. In addition to their children, they have also accumulated loans for various household appliances. My husband and I often help them. Sometimes with money, sometimes with food. Sometimes Monika is impudent and demands something instead of asking.
Then we have to bring her down to earth and refuse her. She and her brother are offended, of course, but in a few weeks they make another request. “Since you and your husband have no children, and we’re going to have four soon, you have to give us your apartment,” Monika said. To your one-room apartment?” I asked, confused by this crazy idea. We’ll let the tenants in. And you will rent an apartment for yourselves, she said confidently. – So we will pay the mortgage and the rent for you?
– Yes, of course. When will you be free?
– You don’t need a polar house, you need a mental hospital. Get out of my apartment.
– Then I’ll go and get rid of the child. And you will be the culprit,” she said, leaving my house. And she did. On the same day. Clandestinely. In the third month of her pregnancy. The doctors barely pumped her out. And at two o’clock in the morning, my brother showed up at the hospital and attacked me with accusations. My husband immediately twisted him around and asked me what happened. I told him. My husband dipped my brother’s head in cold water several times to cool him down and pushed him out of the apartment. Since then, I have not had a brother.