Melanie.
Valencia, Spain. January, six years earlier…
It's been a few weeks since we lost little Giacomo, Emmanuel and Pierre. We've been suffering since. Maya cries all the time from the loss of her little boy. And the death of her husband, Emmanuel, isn't even easy for her to bear. And Pilar, equally suffers the death of Pierre. His loss is unbearable by his parents. And sometimes they call Pilar to ask her to move on. But how can she, when her love was taken from her.
Sometimes I come out to the fields, escaping all the grief inside and I only wish that I can somehow cry my eyes out. But crying doesn't help. Rather it only makes my eyes swollen. We lost so many people in that party and now everyone in the neighborhood is careful with parties. It's like gatherings are now a forbidden. The massacre was too grave.
It's morning now and I'm sitting under a tree, watching the vine workers.
