It was a hot and common day in the largest and most populated country of South America. As the sun sets and the dangers of this third world country begins to rise, an average citizen, living and ordinary life, is about to commit a mistake that is not so rare among her culture, but still, it is a mistake that would change the course of her life forever, a mistake that would put her in the group of the majority of the population, a group called poverty. A mistake that if I were to get into its details, would ruin the story. So I will speak no more of it.
Six and a half years later, living in a wooden house, on a territory which belongs to her sibling, Maria, a name that a bulk number of female members in her civilization have, and her two offspring's, live a life fit for a loafer. Even though it was a place that you could not sleep at night because of the weird sounds coming from the wooden floors and walls, it was a place full of good and bad memories. Mateus, the youngest of the two, is the protagonist of this story. A young boy, only five years old. He has a routine each day. He wakes up in the morning, gets out of bed, goes out of his room through the doorway; he does not have to open the door because there is none. Passes the kitchen carefully so as not to step on the sensitive parts of the wooden floor. Goes into the kitchen and encounters his sister, the older and smarter sibling. They eat breakfast (which to a higher social class, the appropriate word would be: leftovers) and leave the abode with their learning materials. On the way to their destination they must go down a steep hill. A hill made of dirt, mud, and the blood of a person very special to the siblings. A person that felt strong feelings for them, and loved them enough to sacrifice his life in order to save theirs. A person that is truly rare to find in this new world. That now is not among them ( and us) anymore. When they reach



(ITS NOT DONE) :)
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