The grass groes next to my naked toes.
My father yells: lunch is done, come inside or you'll get a cold.
While the wind makes the trees whistle, i make my decision. The sky is grey an blue, it seems like a storm coming over, it seems like rain knocking our heads.
I go inside (now my naked feet are prisoners of my shoes) to find the lunch eaten by my dog-my father does not anything, he just laughs. I go to my room crying, thinking i'm overreacting. My brother complains: if you're so sad in the house, why don't you stay outside, watching the sky turning dark? I answer: what an amazing excuse to get rid of this conversation. I cover my face with the sheets, trying to dream about the perfect life i will have-someday, if life is fair. I try, i really do, but my mind is my worst enemy, so i had a nightmare about my life, it was a normal day, except that when the dusk rised, the day would repeat itself over and over until i died in a sad and bitter routine. I wake up and the nightmare was not a nightmare, it was a memory.