The life of a young mother is shake out when her husband and four-years-old son are killed during a bombing on a football match in London, Ingland.
The novel deals with real situations, specially the afthermath of a terrorist attack and the love bet...
THEY TOLD ME YOU'RE a great counselor. Well, not really. My therapist insisted me on writing you a letter to express myself with someone, and, who better than you? After all, I suppose you're the only person with which I wanna talk. Well, Osama, you know I don't have a good relationship with you, even though you don't know me, but I really wanna talk to you for you to understand me.
They told me to say everything from the very beginning, but I'll only tell you the most important of all.
So, if I'm gonna show you my life, let start here:
"FIVE. FOUR. THREE. TWO. ONE. GO!"
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How he loved that game. He always challenged me. But I always let him won, as every mother would. By the way, the game consisted on not to blink, and if you do so, you lost; basically.
Every time I looked at him, I felt I was going to die of laughter. Not because he looked funny, but because of his preciousness. That's why I called him precious.
It was the most beautiful boy in earth. I wish you could see him, Osama. He was a lot alike me. But, unfortunately, he got a lot from his father, too. Thank God he didn't inherit his arrogance.
His father was a miserable bugger.
To be fair, he wasn't always miserable. Or maybe he was, just that I didn't see it.
Back to precious: I wish I could kiss and hug him all the time. And I do so, before you kill him, Osama He was very sweet and kind. I loved him and he loved me. And for better or worse, I got him and he got me. We got each other.
Lenny-his father-was a policeman, specialized on deactivating incendiary bombs. And yes; I think that was the only think he was capable of. He was a good guy when I met him four years ago. Or I should say when I marry him four years ago. Maybe that was my terrible mistake. But he gave me the most beautiful gift on earth: my son, precious. And yes. A big part of my frustration is because of him, and because of you. Why not? I'm frustrated because he couldn't reach a wonderful life, as he deserved. He was a good boy.
And maybe I loved him too much.
Back to the game, he looked everywhere but me. He's eyes were wet (and don't get me wrong). Like is if he wanted to cry, so I blinked first. I didn't want him to get hurt.
"Mommy you blinked," he said in his innocent and beautiful voice. "I won!"
"Yes you did," I said. "Now, in you get."
He, unhesitatingly, went to bed. Not without Mr. Rabbit, of course. Oh, I forgot it, Osama. He was obsessed with his 'best friend', a toy rabbit, Mr. Rabbit; a rabbit teddy. Ah, Osama. I still conserve that delicious rabbit. I said delicious because it was a smelling teddy. Maybe that's why he didn't let me clean it up. Sometimes I thought what if he had real friends. Maybe I wanted him just for me. But I didn't care if he had friends or not. I Mean, he was four-years-old. Just four, Osama! Four! I had everything ready for him to go to school, but like every other child, he would have cried if we parted.
Now, I'm the one who cries. Who would have said it?
You have no idea of what pain is, Osama. You don't know it. You didn't lose your son. Basically, he lost you, but I'm not sure if you have one.
Again, back to theme, I tucked and gave him the goodnight-kiss.
"Tomorrow we're going to the seaside," I told him before going away.
"Yes! The seaside!" he yelled happily.
"Night, babe," I smiled at him. Then, I closed the door behind me and went to do my things.
Like, get a shower, cook something for Lenny, and wait for him to avoid problems. That night, I stand four hours waiting for him.
Do you know when he got home, Osama? One o'clock a.m.! That was a new record. But he kept like that, night behind night; day behind day. Thinking about the time I spent alone home, I thought I needed somebody with which I could talk. So, one night, I go to a bar near home. There, I met the real-man-of-my-life. And, though, my life's big temptation.
But, I'm going ahead, Osama. I'll talk about that later. For now, let's just talk about the beginning of the end of my life. And that involves Jasper Black. . .
