In the swirling haze of a strange dream where stairwells twisted like endless ribbons of fog and voices drifted as if carried by unseen winds, the woman’s shout cut through the misty opgang of the apartment building on Copenhagen’s quiet outskirts: “What’s wrong with you again?! How much longer must this drag on?! I’ve grown so weary of it all!”
At that instant Freja and Mikkel climbed the steps that seemed to stretch and fold back on themselves. They stopped dead as though meeting a wall woven from echoes. Their eyes met for a fleeting breath and in that silent exchange understanding flowed without sound: better to turn away now. Sighing as one they pivoted and slipped down the corridor away from the building. Returning home that evening felt impossible in the dream’s odd logic.
Who would linger to hear endless parental storms? Certainly not the siblings. They strode toward the neighboring staircase where their grandmother Ingeborg lived. Her flat had become a sanctuary of calm they sought nearly every night rather than only on weekends as before.
The air in the family home had thickened into something suffocating. The parents shouted without pause as if the rest of the world had vanished and more and more they tried to pull the children into the fray.
Sometimes the mother wheeled toward her daughter demanding “Tell me am I right? You agree don’t you?”
Sometimes the father cut in toward his son “No here I am right! Confirm it!”
Freja and Mikkel stayed quiet. Choosing sides held no appeal they simply longed for the silence the peace and the gentle hygge they found at grandmother’s.
These moments repeated daily like a scratched record turning in an endless loop. The children had learned the faint signals that trouble brewed: a certain edge in the voice sudden sharp movements exchanged glances that meant time to slip away. No child wishes to dwell in constant strain where ordinary talk can erupt into thunder at any breath.
The siblings could not grasp what had ignited this upheaval. Their family had never been flawless like those in glowing advertisements yet once the parents had known how to settle differences. Quarrels arose of course but they ended in steady talks. Mother might frown father might lift his voice a little yet within half an hour all was smoothed over tea and plans for the days ahead.
Then roughly two years earlier everything shifted. It was as if in the dream someone had quietly exchanged the old parents for new ones who now discovered reasons to clash in the smallest things. A dirty cup left on the table? A long speech on carelessness and disrespect. A shirt hung on the wrong peg? Cutting remarks about order in the home. A teaspoon forgotten in the sink? Almost a crime deserving lengthy examination.
One evening Freja sat in Ingeborg’s kitchen stirring tea where amber swirls formed tiny whirlpools that seemed to hold hidden tales. After long silence she asked with bitterness “How can it be like this grandma? Everything changed after their vacation together. What happened there?”
Ingeborg paused placing her cup on its saucer and gently traced a hand along Freja’s arm. She too only guessed at the roots of the discord and those guesses brought her no comfort.
“Grown-ups will sort themselves out” she answered softly striving to sound sure. “Sometimes people need time to see the better path.”
Freja nodded yet distrust lingered in her gaze. She knew grandmother hid something but did not press. What use? While seen as a child no serious matters would be shared.
“We cannot bear these shouts anymore!” Mikkel cried in despair. “Homework cannot be done properly nor a book read! I no longer remember when we last gathered as a family at one table. If it is so hard for them together let them divorce and all will be easier!”
The words burst forth carrying the truth of recent months. Mikkel spoke not only for himself he knew his sister felt the same. Quiet had long vanished from their home either mother spoke sharply or father replied with irritation and soon another clash began from which there was no hiding.
“Mikkel” Ingeborg faltered. She set her knitting aside looked closely at her grandson and slowly shook her head. “Have you thought what follows if they divorce? You will be divided. Are you ready to live apart from Freja?”
“We will live with you!” Freja said at once gazing at her grandmother with pleading eyes. “We are here almost always anyway! You would not mind would you?”
Ingeborg stood still. She understood the grandchildren’s weariness she saw how the endless arguments had drained them. On one side the children would be safe here in a peaceful friendly space where lessons could be done without noise books read in quiet and protection felt. She loved them deeply and stood ready to wrap them in care.
On the other side what of the parents? How to explain that the children no longer wished to return home? Would they accept such a plan? And if they did how might it shape their bonds with the children? Could the result be a full break?
“Let us not rush” the woman said drawing a deep breath. “I am always glad to have you here you know that. But first let us try speaking with your mother and father. Perhaps together we can find a way to mend it.”
“Do not worry we will talk to them ourselves” Freja declared with confidence smiling. Grandmother had nearly agreed and that mattered most! “Only do not refuse us please! We truly cannot stay there anymore! It will be better for them apart otherwise one day they might truly harm each other! Yesterday I saw dad raise his hand toward mom. He did not strike her honestly! But he was on the brink.”
Freja fell silent recalling that terrible instant. She had entered the kitchen for water and frozen in the doorway father half turned his hand rising sharply while mother instinctively ducked. A second later he lowered it yet that second stretched into eternity within the dream.
“Grandma agree!” Mikkel urged supporting his sister. He stepped nearer took his grandmother’s hand as if fearing refusal. “We will help with every household task. Only do not send us back there. They pay us no mind at all! Yesterday I told dad about the parent meeting. You know what he answered? Go to mom! So I went. Guess what mom said?”
“Go to dad?” Ingeborg asked quietly already knowing.
“Precisely!” Mikkel smiled bitterly. “Then they argued two more hours over who should attend sitting in separate rooms shouting across the hallway. And I simply stood listening.”
“I asked them to sign permission for the museum trip” added Freja lowering her eyes her fingers nervously twisting her sleeve edge. “Now I am the only one in class who will not go. Neither signed the paper. Instead they began arguing again mother shouting it was father’s duty father insisting mother should handle school affairs.”
Ingeborg watched her grandchildren and saw their deep fatigue. In their eyes lay not ordinary tiredness but the kind built over months when each day mirrored the last when family warmth gave way to constant clashes and support turned to indifference.
“It is always this way” Mikkel sighed shoulders sagging. His voice sounded weary as if he had repeated it hundreds of times. “Any request from us becomes cause for a fresh quarrel. We do not even wish to return home. A few days ago we arrived at eleven in the evening and do you think they scolded us? No they simply sent us to bed without asking where we had been. Yet afterward they accused each other of poor upbringing for a long while.”
The teenagers sighed together once more. In recent months they had seriously weighed divorce as the sole escape yet the prospect of separation from each other frightened them that would surely follow. One would remain with mother the other with father and their usual closeness would shrink to rare weekend meetings.
They discussed options in whispers during evenings alone in their room. One day Mikkel jokingly suggested fleeing home simply grabbing backpacks and walking wherever eyes led. He said it smiling to ease the air but Freja took the notion seriously. Her eyes flared for a moment then she whispered “What if we truly leave? Even for a couple of days…” In that instant both understood the family state had grown so unbearable that even escape seemed possible within the dream’s strange turns.
Then the thought struck grandmother! Why not move in with her? The idea arose in both at once as though they thought in unison. Freja voiced it first “Let us ask grandmother if we may live with her? She will not argue or shout. We will not have to hear these endless disputes…” Mikkel caught on at once “Yes! She is kind always supports us. And her flat is large enough for us.”
They began painting in their minds a new existence calm breakfasts the chance to study in quiet evenings with board games beside grandmother. No shouts no accusations no need to hide in their room to avoid a heated moment. For the first time in ages hope glimmered in their hearts. Let the parents untangle their own matters and the siblings would at last find peace that is what Freja and Mikkel imagined picturing life with their grandmother.
In the dream’s continuing flow the twins stood before their parents “Mother father we must speak seriously” they said firmly. They had waited for evening when both were home and entered the living room with resolve. Freja held Mikkel’s hand tightly to keep steady. “But first promise to hear us through before giving your view.”
Lars lifted his eyes from his phone surprised. Birgitte who was arranging things on the sofa straightened sharply. Their faces showed disbelief as though the children had spoken something unthinkable.
“This is your upbringing!” she snapped crossing her arms. “The children already set conditions for us! As if we must report to them!”
“Who are you to speak!” the man flared at once setting aside his phone. “I am always at work striving to provide. You were always with them! What did you teach them? Why do they now command?”
The twins glanced at each other. They had expected this slide into mutual accusations yet could not retreat.
“Enough!” Freja exclaimed nearly in tears. She stepped forward striving to speak clearly and calmly though everything inside trembled. “Mikkel and I have thought and decided you need to divorce.”
The room grew still as thick mist. Birgitte froze with mouth half open and Lars rose slowly from the sofa.
“Quite the revelation!” the mother’s voice turned threatening. “Freja you are still too young to tell adults how to live! And what else have you decided? Perhaps you will divide the apartment for us too?”
“If you do not divorce we will contact social services” Mikkel said gripping his sister’s hand as if drawing strength. His voice held firm though he himself barely believed the words. “And then father you might lose your job. In your firm scandals are not welcomed correct? You yourself said reputation is everything.”
“And you mother” Freja went on meeting her eyes directly “neighbors will cease respecting you. They will not even speak with you! All know how you shout at each other and we will add details!”
“They are threatening us! Just look at them!” Birgitte finally burst out glancing from one child to the other. “These are our children! How can you act this way toward us?”
“We are not threatening” Mikkel said quietly yet surely. “We simply want you to understand living this way is impossible. We are exhausted from the shouts from you not hearing us from even simple requests turning into scandals.”
“You will divorce move apart and we will live with grandmother” the children finished together as if rehearsed earlier. “This will be better for all calm for us no constant conflicts for you. We no longer wish to stand between you like between two fires.”
The parents stood frozen. For the first time in ages they found no reply. Usually in such talks they began disputing at once interrupting each other seeking blame but now both seemed struck mute.
Their thirteen-year-old twins acted in an unexpected way! Freja and Mikkel stood side by side hands linked gazing at the parents with steady eyes without usual hesitation. They spoke of grave matters the adults themselves preferred to avoid.
The couple had themselves pondered divorce many times yet always the same question halted them with whom would the children remain? Separating the twins seemed unthinkable they were so close always doing everything together supporting one another. The parents could not picture tearing one from the other forcing life in separate homes seeing each other only on weekends.
The option with grandmother had not been considered before. For some reason the notion had never surfaced perhaps because both were too absorbed in their own grievances and mutual claims. But now hearing the children’s proposal Lars and Birgitte found themselves wondering could this be the way out? Grandmother loved the grandchildren her apartment was spacious she was always glad to see them. Perhaps this would truly settle at least part of the troubles.
“I will call mother” Lars finally said through clenched teeth his voice heavy as though the words cost effort. “If she agrees…”
He did not finish the sentence. Birgitte cut in sharply and in her tone rang such weariness that it startled even her “Then we will finally stop tormenting each other. Call. I will be happy to no longer see your face every day.”
Her words hung in the air. She had not wished to sound so sharp yet years of stored hurts and disappointments let them slip free.
“And I will be so glad!” Lars answered striving to veil with irony the pain her words had caused.
No anger colored his tone only a bitter smile at what their family life had become. He drew out his phone and slowly dialed his mother’s number. As the rings sounded both spouses looked in different directions avoiding each other’s gaze. They did not yet know where this talk would lead but they sensed a point of no return might already have been crossed.
In the dream that day the Andersen family reached a fateful decision. It began with a long conversation between Lars and his mother. Ingeborg listened carefully without interrupting only occasionally asking clarifying questions.
When Lars at last laid out everything a pause followed. Grandmother drew a deep breath and said “If you both understand this will be better for the children I agree. They will be safe here I will look after them.”
By evening the spouses met in the kitchen for the first time in ages without shouts or mutual reproaches. They sat facing each other and began discussing details. Gradually step by step they settled on one point divorce was the only reasonable exit from the situation. The children would move to grandmother’s and the parents would each month transfer Danish kroner to her for their support.
Yet neither planned to abandon the children to fate. Both father and mother swore to visit on weekends but on different days to keep their own contacts to a minimum.
“I will come Saturday mornings to fetch them for a walk and you on Sunday” the man said tiredly to which his still wife nodded in agreement. “That will be simpler. The main thing is the children do not feel abandoned.”
Their chief aim was to reduce communication to a minimum and thereby avoid fresh conflicts. They agreed not to speak of each other in front of the children not to pull them to sides not to settle scores in their presence.
“We are still their parents” Lars said. “And must remain so even if we are no longer spouses.”
As time revealed in the dream the decision proved ideal. The children at last could relax and begin living as ordinary teenagers. Freja joined a drawing circle she had long wished for but earlier worries had left no room. Mikkel began attending football found new friends on the team. They once more spent time together wandering the city visiting the cinema discussing school matters without fear that at any moment another clash would erupt.
Stability returned to their studies as well. Now they had a quiet place for work no one distracted them with shouts and disputes. Homework was completed calmly without nerves and this promptly showed in their marks. Teachers noticed the change “You have become so attentive you two! Keep it up!”
Gradually life settled into a new course not perfect but calm and foreseeable. The children no longer hid in their room did not start at loud voices did not fret over every step. They simply lived as teenagers should who had found support amid the hardest circumstances.
Five years later in the dream the Andersen family’s life flowed evenly and calmly. Freja and Mikkel had long grown used to the new pattern studies clubs meetings with friends warm evenings at grandmother’s. The parents still came in turn each on their own day with gifts and attention but without mutual claims. Over these years they had learned to speak with restraint politely without the old flares of anger.
The first direct contact between the former spouses occurred at the children’s graduation. The school arranged a formal evening and both parents naturally attended. They kept at first on guard taking seats at opposite ends of the hall yet gradually the ice thawed.
When dancing began Lars unexpectedly approached Birgitte “Perhaps we dance? Recall the past.”
She hesitated a moment then nodded.
After the evening they sat long in the school courtyard watching the graduates celebrate by the fountain. Conversation began of its own accord first about the children then about earlier times.
They spoke much that evening recalling happy moments of their marriage and behaved quite properly. They spoke not of old hurts but of the good that had once connected them. The twins watching their parents from afar could not contain their joy yet it pained them to see two of their closest people treat each other almost as enemies.
But suddenly thunder rolled from a clear sky. The next day Lars and Birgitte invited the children to a cafe. Over tea they glanced at each other took hands and Lars announced with a broad smile “Children your mother and I have thought and decided to marry again. Over these years we have understood our feelings have not faded! We still love each other and wish to become a family once more.”
His voice rang joyful as though sharing the happiest news of his life. Birgitte glowed clearly expecting delighted reactions.
The twins exchanged looks their faces darkening at once. Disbelief flickered in Freja’s eyes Mikkel clenched his fists beneath the table. Back to the same mistakes! What was happening in their parents’ heads? Could they live together without conflicts?
“Are you serious?” was all Freja could utter.
“Absolutely” Lars answered confidently. “We have both changed. Learned to listen to one another. And we wish to give our family a second chance.”
The children stayed silent. Inside conflicting feelings churned on one side they wanted to believe the parents had truly altered on the other they feared a repeat of the pain once endured.
Yet they did not try to dissuade them. They did not even comment on the statement which deeply offended the parents. Birgitte looked at the children bewildered “What is this are you not glad? We thought you would be happy for us.”
But the twins merely glanced at each other and shrugged. What could they say? “Do not do this! Do not ruin your lives!” Words lodged in their throats. They did not wish to seem heartless yet could not pretend all was well.
Until the end of the meeting talk did not flow. The parents tried to describe their plans the children nodded politely but their thoughts were far away. On the way home Freja said quietly to her brother “I hope they know what they are doing.”
Mikkel only sighed in reply.
“So we are heading to the capital?” Freja opened her laptop intending to search university sites. “Farther from this madness. I already picture how this circus will end!”
“Of course we are going” Mikkel said firmly and in his voice sounded a weariness beyond his years. He ran a hand through his hair as though trying to shed the weight of recent months. “They will live peacefully a month at most two. Then everything repeats shouts door slams accusations. I no longer wish to be a hostage to their relations. I do not want each morning to wonder in what mood they woke and toward whom the next stream of complaints will pour.”
He rose and paced the room mechanically gathering scattered textbooks. One thought circled in his head why do adults who should serve as examples of wisdom and steadiness behave like unbalanced teenagers? Why instead of solving problems do they keep stepping into the same trap?
“We need to leave” he repeated stopping by the window. Beyond the glass twilight slowly descended tinting the city in soft orange hues. Mikkel gazed into the distance as though trying to discern his future there. “Far away. So far that their quarrels cannot reach us. Let them sort themselves out. We are no longer their psychologists their mediators their lightning rods. We have our own life our own dreams and I will not allow them to destroy it with another round of parental madness.”
“When do we submit the documents?” Freja asked calmly.
“Tomorrow” Mikkel answered without hesitation. “To make certain we do not reconsider.”
The girl nodded silently without lifting her eyes from the screen. On it flickered pages of Copenhagen university sites she had spent a week studying study programs dorm living conditions employment prospects after graduation. In her notebook beside the laptop lists grew pros and cons of each option required documents deadlines contacts of admissions offices.
“The main thing is to study calmly without distraction from their arguments” she said quietly as though summing up her thoughts. “Good that we will be so far.”
“Precisely” Mikkel agreed settling beside her. He tilted his head slightly reading the lines on the screen. “And when they begin again to argue over who is to blame we will not even hear it. Let them call complain try to summon us to a family council we no longer take part in this. And their desire to give the relations a second chance” he smiled bitterly “that is their choice not ours.”
In the dream Birgitte and Lars did hold a second wedding. This time they consciously refused a lavish celebration they did not want extra expenses did not wish to draw attention and honestly did not feel anything grand was needed. They limited themselves to a modest ceremony at the registry office and dinner among the closest parents a few friends the children.
In the photographs from that day they looked truly happy. Smiling holding hands gazing at each other with tenderness and warmth. In the frames could be seen their intertwined fingers soft looks light touches. It seemed all hurts were forgotten that years apart had done good that now they knew exactly what they wanted and ahead lay only a bright future. The children looking at these images could not help wondering perhaps this time everything would truly turn out differently?
But alas no. The first weeks after the wedding passed surprisingly peacefully the spouses tried to be more attentive to each other said thank you more often did not pick at small things. Yet gradually old habits began returning. Already after a month raised tones sounded again in their apartment. At first these were restrained reproaches quiet yet barbed “You left it untidy again?” “Why did you not warn that you would be late?” “You could have helped since you are home.”
Then open conflicts began. Arguments arose over trifles someone left damp towels in the bathroom someone forgot to buy bread someone turned the television too loud. Words grew sharper voices louder pauses between quarrels shorter.
And after two months as Mikkel had predicted the situation reached its peak. One evening a dispute over who should buy groceries turned into a real storm. Lars unable to hold back in fury threw a cup at the wall it shattered with a loud crash shards flying across the kitchen. Birgitte no less enraged seized a plate from the table and hurled it to the floor with force. The crash of breaking dishes echoed through the apartment.
After such scenes the parents invariably tried to reach the children by phone. Each time the conversation began the same one of them dialed barely catching breath after the quarrel and immediately poured out accumulated hurts.
“Can you imagine what he said today?” Birgitte would break into sobs when Freja took the receiver. “He does not even try to understand me!”
“Son you must understand me she has no control over herself” Lars would say agitatedly to Mikkel. “I try truly I try but she seems to seek a reason!”
But Freja and Mikkel had learned to interrupt these monologues gently yet unwaveringly. They no longer let themselves be drawn into long discussions no longer tried to figure out who was right and who wrong. Their answers were short but firm.
“Mother I am in class now I will call back later” Freja would say calmly glancing at the clock twenty minutes remained before the lecture but she had no wish to hear another monologue.
“Father I have urgent work let us discuss this on the weekend” Mikkel would reply without lifting his eyes from the laptop screen. He knew if he let the parent speak the conversation would stretch for an hour and afterward he would still have to calm them.
“Later” and “on the weekend” were invariably postponed. The children found excuses studies part-time work meetings with friends and gradually calls from the parents grew rarer. Freja and Mikkel felt no guilt over this they simply protected their nerves and time knowing they lacked the power to change what unfolded between mother and father.
The twins truly had their own life rich meaningful far from parental dramas. Each of their days now consisted of their own concerns interests and plans not of waiting for the next quarrel beyond the wall.
Freja immersed herself in the study of psychology. She enjoyed unraveling how the human soul is arranged why people act one way or another how one can help those who find themselves in a difficult situation. In her third year she began volunteering at a center aiding teenagers from troubled families. There she led group sessions helped the young people express their feelings find ways out of complicated situations. Freja saw in these teenagers echoes of her own past and tried to give them what she herself had once lacked attention support the feeling that they were heard.
Mikkel found himself in IT. From his first courses he became fascinated with programming the logic of code the possibility of creating working systems solving complex technical tasks. He spent much time at the computer studying new programming languages taking part in student hackathons. In his fourth year his team took third place in a regional competition for developing mobile applications this gave him confidence and showed he was moving in the right direction. Mikkel took a part-time job in a small IT company where he quickly established himself as a responsible and capable employee. Working on real projects he learned to interact with colleagues to distribute time sensibly to find solutions in unusual situations.
The twins began planning a future without looking back at parental scandals. Freja dreamed of opening her own practice helping families find common ground. Mikkel considered his own business. They discussed plans over tea in a cafe drew up schemes noted ideas in notebooks. And in these moments they felt they had support. They had a path. They had a life that belonged only to them.
When Birgitte and Lars once more tried to draw them into their problems calling in tears beginning to tell how everything was bad how they did not understand each other the twins answered calmly and firmly. They had discussed beforehand how they would conduct the conversation to avoid slipping to avoid falling into the familiar role of mediators.
“Enough dear parents sort it out yourselves” Freja stated firmly. “You have your life we have ours.”
“But you are our children!” Birgitte sobbed. “You must support us!”
“If you behaved normally and not like little children we would support you” Mikkel declared at once. “You made a mistake remarrying and you keep tormenting each other. You cannot coexist normally in one space so why do you torment yourselves? Divorce already and move apart.”
The words might have seemed harsh yet. The brother and sister simply wished to live in peace.
