Smoke And Pantyhose 2.15

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Children always share something from their parents.

What is born from a cow, will eat grass and what is born from a wolf, will eat meat.

A cherry tree will make cherries with cherry seeds and an apple tree will make apples with apple seeds.

Sayings, about parents and children.

This day starts like any other day here. It is a cold autumn morning, with a clear sky. Forests are painted in all colors. Up in the mountains, winter comes earlier then at the plains. My husband, Alia - Atan, takes the train to go to work, at the mines. I go to the railway station to signal upstream and downstream stations that the train is coming. Then, I return home, to make my elder children, Aisha and Adge, ready for school. After they start walking, I go back to the railway station. The train is returning from the mines and going downstream. All goes just as should be.

I am in the railway station, smoking a cigartte and admiring the mountains. Now, I have to go and see my little daughter, Abidet. She must be awake by now. Sometimes when she wakes, she gets out from the house, sometimes she stays more time in bed. Time to make her some breakfast. So, I go to the kitchen, still smoking. With the cigarette in my mouth, I prepare her what she needs. Very good!

With the food on the table, I get out from the kitchen. Close to the river, Alia - Atan made with the children a small park. They built two benches, a table, planted some flowers and some bushes. It is a lovely place to stay, relax and smoke. I often sit there. But, what I see shocks me. I see little Abidet smoking.

What is this? She is only 6! Oh well, I also started smoking at 6, so this is how my parents felt when they seen me. She is really smoking. And her moves are actually mine. She copied me! I like to take a double puff once, first puff pushes the smoke deep inside me, then I take a little dose of air and the second puff, mixing all in my lungs. And when I take the second puff, a very small cloud of smoke exits my mouth. Well, usually, not always. But now, Abidet is smoking just like I do, with double inhales. She is moving just like I do, with one hand at her waist and holding the cigarette in the other one.

What should I do?

The image is really shocking me. I just don't know what to do. Smoking is a good thing, but underage smoking is not. I often said that if my children will not start smoking on their own, I will teach them when they reach 15. Well, I hopend they will not start before 13, or at least before 11. But at 6? Now, what should I do?

I just watch her. She smokes so natural, so amazingly innocent and cute. Well, I smoked during all my pregnancies, so basically these children started smoking before they were even born. Then, nicotine was all around them. I smoked while breast-feeding them. Alia - Atan even made fun of me, saying: "Are you giving a cigarette to the baby?" Well, I actually gave them enough smoke when they were babies. Also, they started their lives as passive smokers. I argued they should not stay in the room when there was too much smoke inside, but only when there really was too much. They grew-up like this.

I just move in the house, gently, without making any noise, remembering my past. When my parents found out that I smoke, I was also 6. They forced me to stop, but I used to sit on the ground and cry. I cried even an hour, until they gave me a cigarette. Nobody and nothing could ever stop me. Abidet is blood from my blood, flesh from my flesh. I am still thinking what to do... when she comes to me:

"Mom, I am hungry", she says.

"Come with me to the kitchen, darling", I say. "Your food is ready".

We go to the kitchen, where she eats. I always like to watch the children when they eat. Then, I give her a glass of milk and a few cookies. All this time, I think what to do. If she is not addicted yet, I might stop her until she grows a bit more. But if she is addicted, then I will not stop her in any way. After all, I love smoking. I enjoy it and I convinced so many people to start. And my official name is Nicotiana Ana.

Everybody said to me that my children will start smoking very early. Quite everybody. And I agreed, always. But I thought about the age of 13 as good for that, not 6.

We go to our small park, near the river. We sit on one bench.

"Abidet, darling", I say. "What were you doing here before breakfast?"

"Nothing", she says. I know this is a lie. And I know very well these children cover each other in a surprisingly good way.

"No, you were not doing nothing", I say while lighting a cigarette.

I also take one and give it to her.

"You said I am too young for this", she says, taking my cigarette.

"You were smoking here. I seen you", I say, with a smile.

It is good to be your child's friend and not an enemy.

"I know you smoke", I say. "Don't hide from me".

She takes the cigarette and says:

"Yes, I smoke. I watched you and wanted to be like you".

I give her the lighter. She lights the cigarette very easy, takes a double inhale, letting a bit of smoke out of her mouth, keeps the smoke inside her body, then exhales. I watch carefully, to see if she really is addicted or not. But she is.

"How long have you been smoking?" I ask her, with a smile on my face.

She takes another inhale, happy that she can smoke in front of me.

"Come on, say me. When did you start?"

"When we went to the lake and you and dad went after tree buds", she says.

Oh mine! This was in spring. We collect certain tree buds and make a syroup of them. They are very good when you catch a cold. In these mountains, where medical service does not exist, we rely on natural cures as much as possible. But if she started smoking in spring and now it is autumn... she has been smoking all this long?

"First time I got so dizzy that I almost fallen in the lake", she says. "But then I started to like it".

She smokes in front of me. Her young lungs are small, so she cannot make large clouds of smoke, but she clearly is smoking. My decision is made. I will let her smoke. I just cannot stop her. I mean, this is how I were at her age.

"Abidet", I say, putting my arm on her back and gently touching her. "Don't hide from me. When you want to smoke, just do it with me. I don't like that you were hiding. Will you do that for me?"

"Yes", she says.

"Do the other children smoke?" I ask her, already knowing that she will not tell me.

"I need to ask them", she says.

In fact, she knows if they smoke, but she doesn't want to tell me. She needs to ask them if she can tell me or not. These children are so united, that it is impossible to find out something easily.

Oh mine! Little Abidet is smoking. But are the other children smoking too? I don't know yet. I need a way to find out. But how? If you ask one, it will never tell you about the others. Should I talk with each one separately or should I spy them?

I take Abidet to help me around the house, in the garden. She helps, like always, happy to do this. At some point I light a cigarette. I ask her if she wants and yes... she wants. All times I watch her, I am amazed to see that she smokes in the same way I use to.

Later, the other children are coming from school. As usually when they come, I prepare them clean clothes to change. Then, I go to the kitchen and prepare their meal. All of them eat. I also eat something with them. As it is polite, we don't speak while eating. I always make sure they learn the unwritten law that governs these mountains for millennia.

Then, I light a cigarette. I also give one to Abidet, saying:

"Do you want one?"

"Yes", she says, taking my cigarette.

Watching her, smoking at this fragile age, is like watching me in a mirror of time. She started on her own, I also started on my own. Nobody learned me how to smoke, I just found some cigarettes and tried until I got it right. and got hooked for life.

"Do you two want one?" I say, talking to Aisha and Adge.

They say nothing, not a yes or a no.

"Well, if you want to smoke", I say, "you are welcome. Only don't hide from me. Abidet decided to smoke and she smokes now".

I just let the lighter in the kitchen. We have packs of handmade cigarettes anywhere in the house. If they smoke, feel free to do so. I just go to the house and start packing some clothes, when the radio beeps. A train is coming and I need to go to the station. And I go.

"What are you doing, Ana", says my shadow.

"What should I do?" I answer. "Abidet is smoking. Are the others smoking too?"

"I don't think they do. But Abidet will teach them".

"I learned my sisters and my brother how to smoke", I say. "Even my parents stopped and I convinced them to start again. Abidet will teach the others for sure".

"Yes, it is just a matter of time. And now, you gave her free hands", says my shadow.

"Shadow, is there anything bad in smoking? I smoked all my life and I am ok".

"They will not grow", says my shadow. "They will remain shorter, like you are".

"Well, if that's all, there is no problem. At least their lungs will be as happy as mine".

Saying this, I light a cigarette and think about what is going on. I guess I've been smoking for 30 years, with between one and two packs a day. Let's say 30 packs a say. 365.25 days an year. I take a sheet of paper from the station and do the math. About 330 000 cigarettes! That totals 16 500 packs. We put 20 packs in a box, so you get 825 boxes. An average cigarette weights 1.2 g, but the tobacco itself weights 1 g. So, in 30 years, I smoked almost 400 kg of cigarettes or 330 kg of tobacco. Wow, that is 5 to 6 times my weight! This is how much I smoked? And I am sure in the coming 30 years, the same will happen. Oh mine! I never calculated this before. If I live long enough, I will reach 1000 kg!

I look at the cigarette I now smoke. Wow! This is how addicted I am!

At the University, I had a talk with the old psychologist that revealed to me that I am a sfenist. I used to stay with her in the breaks and smoke. She helped me very much to find my path in life. And also she talked about my unusually strong addiction. Well, she confessed that she tried many times to quit, but failed, so she took it all on another way: to give her body the nicotine it needs, trying to fix a daily dose. At that point, she gave me two examples:

"You won't believe it, Nicotiana, but in the 50's many doctors recommended smoking as a medical cure for a few diseases. There are also two cases of miraculous healing in medicine, around the 50's. Two men were suffering of lung cancer and they believed so strongly that smoking will cure them, that it actually cured them. Doctors were surprised to see them recovered. Anyone will argue that this is impossible, but I tell you, after many incredible things I seen in psychology, that it is. Our brains are extremely powerful. In many diseases, if you make your mind that something will heal you and you believe so strongly that it is the cure, it will really work. Those two men believed so strong that smoking will cure them, up to the point they really were cured".

I finish the cigarette and throw the filter down. My mind continues to playback my memories:

"On the other hand, I know a woman, she was a good friend of mine. She so strongly believed that she was sick, even if she was completely healthy. And you won't believe it, Nicotiana! She started to accuse imaginary pain and much more! Her brain made her throw-up and she was so convinced she was sick! In the end, she died from the illusion of a disease. Yes, her brain commended her to die".

The train comes and goes upstream. I go to the radio and signal upstream and downstream stations, then return to the platform and signal the train to go. As I go back to the house, my memories continue to roll:

"If you take a piece of toilette shit and eat it, but your brain tells your body that this is the cure to all your problems, it will really be. But if you eat the best and most expensive food in the world and think it is poison, it will harm you. It is all up to our brains, Nicotiana! Nothing else. I know you are extremely addicted to smoking. Each time you smoke, consider that it heals you and makes you stronger, not that it harms you. If you think this is toxic and will kill you, it will kill you one day".

And she is so right!

As I return to the house, I look at the children. They are playing and are very happy. How could Abidet be smoking for so long and I never found out? I watch how they play. Sometimes they are visible, sometimes not, but I still hear them. This makes me comfortable, that they are around and are ok. I cannot watch them in every second. Nobody can. After all, they have to start developing their own lives. I have no intention to oppress them as Alia - Atan was oppressed by his parents, destroying his personality and his life.

When another train is coming, I go back to the station and watch the children from there. After the train goes, I move and watch them candid. At some point I see Abidet smoking and giving her cigarette to Adge. Is he smoking too?

Evening comes. When Alia - Atan comes from the mines, I give him food and we all eat. Then, as usually, we, adults, light a cigarette. Abidet looks at me... and I give her one.

"Nicotiana, what are you doing?" he asks surprised.

"She smokes", I say. "I caught her today in the morning".

"Abidet, you are too young for this" he says.

"She is already addicted", I say. "Just as I was at her age".

Alia - Atan puts his cigarette, unfinished, in the ashtray. His face is a mixture of angry and sad. He also can see that Abidet is smoking with the same moves I do.

"You made her smoke, you make her stop!" he says, moving out of the kitchen.

********************************************

After that day, we allowed Abidet to smoke with us. Alia - Atan is more angry on this, but I just cannot do anything. My heart, filled with nicotine all these years, simply accepts this. Too early, yes, but that's it! And even if I would try to make her stop, we have tons of handmade cigarettes and dried tobacco around us.

Then, one day, the girls are playing near the river. I take Adge in the garden, to help me pick-up some vegetables. Then, when we are at some distance from the girls, I light a cigarette.

"Take one!" I say to him, giving him one.

He takes it and lights it. Then, I notice he is not inhaling much. He is not addicted. Probably he took a few drags from Abidet, but still has some road to walk on, until he is a smoker.

"It is your decision if you want to smoke or not", I say. "But if you smoke, you will remain small as you are. Smoking is for grown children and adults. If you want to smoke, don't hide from me. Do it near me and don't worry".

The fact is that, soon after this, Adge started to smoke with Abidet. It did not take long and he smoked with us in the house. What I asked myself is: did I made him a smoker? After convincing maybe 200 people to start smoking, what can I expect from myself?

*******************************

After a few weeks, Aisha, my big daughter, came to me and said:

"Mom, Adge and Abidet are free to smoke. I want too".

"Yes, my dear. Here is one for you". At least she is older then the others. How is it possible that she did not start until now?

"I tried and I cough. Can you help me?"

Oh mine! My own child, asking me to teach her how to smoke! What should I do? I must be their friend, not their enemy. So, I start teaching her.

"Just take a little bit of smoke inside your mouth. Only very little. Then breath in. At first, you only take very little. With time, you will take in more".

**********************************

So, it takes a month and our children are all smokers. Now, they smoke in the house and in the kitchen, with us. Even more, they start to teach their cousins. Once, I was teaching children how to smoke, now my children are doing the same job.

On the other hand, the fact that we allowed them to smoke around us, helped them gain trust in us. Now, after we eat, we all smoke. We do the same when we watch a movie on the laptop or when we are gardening. Aisha smokes while doing her homework.

Well, we always did the best to teach our children to avoid bad things. For example, alcohol, which is the blood of Satan. We always showed drunk people when we seen them around. Alcoholics are ugly, stinky, dirty, never polite and they piss in their beds. We showed our children over and over again how alcoholics are abandoned by their families and how everybody laughs at them. This is the way to talk with a child: to go down to its level and find examples that it will understand.

When I was in the first years of school, my parents used to tell my sisters: 'Don't smoke! Don't do what your sister is doing!' Well, it was the worst decision. Saying no, creates curiosity... and we were in fact all puffing like crazy.

This is with my strong addiction to smoking, our children started it very early. But what with the other addiction, that comes from Alia - Atan? His pantyhose addiction? As we both wear pantyhose and he is partially a transgender, what will happen? The girls are wearing pantyhose when it is cold outside. But Adge, our son? Will he sneak pantyhose from his sisters? Will he be tended to become a transgender like his dad? Will he, at some age, let a longer hair and paint it?

There is one place where Alia - Atan is always dressed as a woman, with fake breasts, with a dress and everything a woman wears. That place is the lake, the abandoned reservoir where I used to come when I was a child or a teen, to tell all my happiness and sadness. We come here from time to time. The children love this place, as they play in the forest and in summer go to swim in the lake.

They grew with their father as he is. The girls are used to wear pantyhose, but not Adge. He is a boy. Well one day Alia did dress him as a girl as we went to the lake, saying him that 'it is allowed only here, nowhere else in the whole world'. And since then, it happened again each time we went, but only here, at the lake.

Two women were sitting at the lake, near the shore. Both had a green dress and green hair. Their pantyhosed feet were touching the water. With one hand, they were hanging each other, while with the other, they were holding their cigarettes. One of the women is me. The other was not a woman at all. He is my husband.

Also, three young girls were playing in the forest around the lake. All three were wearing dresses and all three had their feet covered with pantyhose. They came to sit near us and lighted their cigarettes. The biggest and the smallest are our daughters. The middle one was not a girl at all. He is our son.

END OF PART TWO.

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