I woke up bad ... A nightmare that I do not remember me out to sleep tonight, I was left staring at the street lights chase each other on the wall until dawn, then I have worn back to sleep next to my sister in the bedroom of the hotel room to the sea ... hot despite the fan, but never mind, I just wanted to sleep.
When my sister has overtaken urlandomi it was late, and that if I did not move would not let me even a croissant for breakfast, I mumbled a "who cares" that has been lost in the sound of water in the sink.
empty room, I turn in the Latvia's huge. I do not want to sleep, I will not get up. I would like to recall what woke me up tonight ... there is something that scares me, I know that waiting for me out there ... I do not want to get out ... but I do not want to be here without knowing what it is. Ten years
after I talk about this with someone special ... Indeed, she speaks I listen, and when I say that maybe I understand what you mean, I know I believe in hard work.
Esco hotel to go to the beach, I start to walk the course. Around a bit 'in stores now know them by heart: the shrine after the ice cream, then toys, swimwear, the bazaar of postcards and souvenirs ... I stopped there as usual, tidying a bit 'out of place cards, spare the smile of the middle-aged woman looking at me from his chair behind the counter ... tidying up the objects around me always calms me down, and after a few minutes I go out and start walking again.
We arrive at the beach: I think I'll pass in the cabin to change clothes, because the costume I made today ... umbrella step to ask for the keys to mom, and she starts crying when she sees me.
not asking you the keys, do not ask anything: I woke up tonight, I watch in silence, the beat of my heart seems deafening.
"He called my father" - the deafening beat, I feel fatigue - "the newspaper said ..."
Handkerchief, silence ... heart deafening, newspaper ...
"Your S. ... is ... is ... oh God ..."
every day, take the newspaper, my mother does not want it away, the cry to leave me alone.
so I'm going, with the newspaper in hand, with my heart that covers the entire Yoke type, with children who laugh and cry but do not feel ... with the costume but without the keys in hand, I do not want the keys, I want nothing.
I read several times obituary, scroll all the newspaper, there is no other. No articles nor sidebars, no scandals, no gossip about that person that all defined as "fragile", "sick", "depressed" ...
She calls herself "hopeless", but perhaps the nostri15 years were too few to understand the meaning of "hopeless."
When I wrote I wrote for her, because she was reading ... I liked to see her smile when she read my themes.
I stopped writing after her.
"You give me the strength to go on" ... I felt proud and happy when he uttered these words.
But was not there, were not there when it happened ... we were not there when he took sleeping pills to numb ... were not there when he dropped ... there was none.
today that death is part of that study, now in training that I see people die, I know it's hard not to be alone when you die: you can have doctors and relatives, and friends and with around ... but at that moment nothing is really close.
So it is strange ... he was alone when he did there was no one ...
But even before she was alone ... and when he decided he had anyone, when he said he wanted to do and no one has figured ... not just died alone ... has been left alone.
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