A newly completed my 24 years have been the shadow of the joys. My grandmother just died and I know that Lola is going to cost me much to overcome this great loss. Anyone I have received so sweet, no one so delicately and so much affection. Eighty-odd was not enough to exhaust it, but his heart is tired of living and went to sleep for ever letting this huge gap.
When he was about 6 years, one day after returning from school, my mother told me that my father would never return, they had decided to leave because the love was gone . I recorded the words but I understood nothing. A few days later my mother slept hugging another man's clothes and shoes he occupied the space before my dad had in the closet and sit in your favorite site. He looked at me strangely. He complained to me saying it was too sullen and my mother made me occasionally to kiss. He smelled of wine. I often left in the room watching cartoons and slept the siesta. My mother returned from the break with a very placid. Later, not conforming to the meetings with my mother in her bedroom, started fondling me that baffled me. He was never kind to me, but I caressing and I slipped out of their arms as soon as I could. "Do not be surly, Nora." This man always made me nauseous.
My mother just looked through the eyes of one who gave me such a panic. I did not want to see what was happening and did not believe me when I told him abusing me. At 16 I escaped with a young man about 20 years that made me happy for me out of this hell. I do not think my mother would look, but rather should stay at home by not having to deal with me. I never said I wanted and did not even show it. Antonio, my boy, whom I called my good angel, for having brought to the torment, endorsed me and taught me to get up from a nap with the same face of satisfaction and serenity that my mother did. He taught me to eat, so forget the past and to this day, I also taught fiddle to pay for the own consumption. I thought it was wonderful to have someone who looked after me, I supplied all that gave me pleasure or alienated me. At first I knew happiness, but had a bad temper and raised his hand for me the most insignificant, on the other hand, I realized that we lived on the edge. We were squatters. My angel was strong and he had hit a kick to the door. One day it was the police who hit the kick to the door and took us handcuffed to the police: he finished in the bag and I in a detox center.
when they believed he was cured, located at my parents, but none of them wanted to know about me. It was adult, but had nowhere to go. Lola was my grandmother who came to fetch me. Now he's not, but I can not forget the endless times we spent combing by the window, I sat on a small chair. I wore a scarf over her shoulders, she called vanity, and I smoothed the hair for a long time, while I told stories nonstop. We lived very modestly, and know how are the pensions of widows. Now back to being alone and I know that nobody will brush my hair. How I miss you, Grandma!
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