I was even so of the cemetary without route, beyond not having explanations for nothing of what I had happened still I would have that to face my mother, I would kill me to it for having last the night I am, at that time this age well more serious of what nowadays. what I would say pra it? If not even I wise person to the certainty what she had happened in the reality. When I arrived in house all were seated in the sofa having consoled mother who was in prantos, at the moment that turns me the relief took account of its expressions, less of mother who it seemed not to believe that I was well, that she was alive. It: – My son for the love of God, for where you walked? I: – Calm mother I am well, I am that yesterday I was going pra party of the Slvia but in the way I lost the spirit and I was the house of another friend, knot we are talking and we did not see the time to pass then wove late pra very to come back pra house and it he said that I could sleep there and did not give pra to inform nobody, was alone this.

It: But my son you had that to have informed, I imagined everything of bad that he could have happened with you, never more I make this please Mother I hugged me fort and I saw that they looked at me to all made an impression. Then I remembered that I had many hanging things in my head that I needed to organize and said: – Mother forgives me for everything I never more will make this again, I promises, but now I am very tired, necessary and a bath, I forgive me all but I go for my room, debtor for being with my mother. I lay down myself in my bed in the intention to close the eyes and to find an explanation for all that one madness, but I did not obtain to find and my head so was weighed that I badly could think right. The days if had passed, the years if they had passed, already it makes much time that everything happened but I remember this every day, I I try to convince that it was a dream but in deep I know that was not, also try to imagine that I had one I occasion in that night, but also know that he was conscientious of my acts, at last, I I do not know what he happened or if really happened, I only know that it is the souvenir marcante of my past and I believe that always he goes to be, I I always live my life waiting for a reply but also I content myself in thinking that perhaps I never know the truth.