The dream, so desired month by month, seemed to have come true. However, by chance, it returns to the starting point; the illusion for what it could be has gone through the thigh. In a second, the mask that brought reality has been removed.

He had kept the good news secret for fear, although he wanted to share with his family the madness he felt through his bowels. Today, however, when pain has occupied the place of hope, it has realized that not having said that she was pregnant has not alleviated the pain of natural abortion. And so, as you wash the blood stains, you encounter their reflection in the mirror: you don't want to believe what happened and you can't accept it.

Suddenly he came up with a picture of him on Instagram the day before, on his favorite summit, contemplating the sunset. He called it “Life in Life.” He asked that woman, full of happiness, if life now has to live every day, by force. But in the company of cold toilet tiles, he found no answer.

She wants to cry in her father's arms, feel the warmth of her friends around a cafe. She wants to ask her mother if there had been nothing more than the eldest daughter, but as if she had no right to suffer, she has tried to convince herself that it is better to abandon the bad news in the shadows. But it doesn't know who is harming the rage, who is to blame too heavy, how to overcome insecurity, where to hide shame.

It has been asked in which place are the others who live the sour part of statistics and why they are offended by the desire to be invisible parents. He realizes that the taboo makes the penalty even more cruel, but it is not easy for him to rebel against the censorship that he has almost unwittingly strengthened until yesterday evening.

It seems that he has no choice but to bury the sadness he needs to liberate himself, but he cannot forget what happened. You do not want to forget that. On Instagram, you want to make living life often hurts. However, it does not want a compassionate look in return, it does not want to hear cheap phrases. All he needs is to recognize that there is no magic bandage that cures abortion.

Finally, the noise of the lock gave her breath. He looked at him in his eyes and balked that the little one they hoped for with such affection would never arrive. They hugged each other and dropped a tear on each other's shoulders. The void seemed too big to them, but they had to shout silently. Stories that don't have a happy ending don't count.