(“Happy people smoke and drink coffee”)
It was a Thursday.
A day like another day.
I started my
journey at 8 o'clock in the morning. I went to school with my little white and
maroon Vespa and like every day I arrived few minutes late at class.
It was a long day.
Some subjects were boring, others really interesting. Some teachers give us
homework, others no.
Well, it was a day
like everyday.
At 3 o'clock p.m. I
arrived tired and hungry at home so before going to sleep, I ate the plate that
my mum prepared lovingly for us before we came back from school.
After sleeping and resting
myself a little bit I took my school bag. I sat in front of my desk and started
to do my homework and study.
In the evening
after eating the meal I decided to go to read the book that my mum had
recommended me. So, I went upstairs, I went in my room, let my body fall
on my bed and started to read the book.
The title of the
book was "Les gens heureux fument et boivent du café".
The main character
started telling that it's been a year that she had lost her daughter and
husband in a car accident.
After the first
four pages I stopped because I heard my mum crying down stairs. I decided to go
to see what happened, to know what makes my mum cries.
I arrived in front
of my mum and my sister and both were crying all the tears of their body.
I asked what
happens, but my mum couldn't answer and my sister looked at me during three
seconds that seems like an eternity for me.
Finally, my sister
could tell me what happened, she said:
-Your piano teacher
died in a car accident this Wenesday.
I could not believe
what she said. I could not believe what was happening. The time stopped,
everything stopped because the tears that started to fall down without control
blurred my vision.
<<We expect that it will be overcome
after a certain period of time, and we believe it will be inappropriate and
even harmful to disrupt it.>>
Sigmund Freud, about mourning
and melancholia.