Dear Mum,

it's probably the second time I ever write to you, I barely thought about you the last ten years, I feel sorry about that, but now I questions and I need answers. I don't know if you see me, if you see us, from where you are.

Why did you leave me? Why did you fucking leave us? Without any word, any good bye. This one morning, I left to school, I probably didn't want to wake up, as usual, you probably walked me there or not, I don't remember all those details. But I came home, I don't remember how, dad was there, someone might have waited for us at school, dad or Geneviève. I came home and there was all those people in front of our house, I was happy, or was I? I came in the house, dad sat down on the coach, I was heading to the toilets, to wash my hands as you taught me so well. Dad told me to come and what did I answer "Non, je dois d'abord me laver les mains, on va manger." What answer did I get? "Maman, est partie, au ciel & pour toujours?" I couldn't believe it, it wasn't true, I don't think I even cried, I just went straight to the bathroom as usual before lunch. And then the last thing I remember of that day, was my friends coming home, playing with me as usual, Malvin, Margaux, Armella and maybe some others.

And then I know that we came right back to France. I don't remember anything of that. I just remember some days, some events of the next few months, of the next few years. Claire applied to school for us, while I was playing in the corridor with Félix. I remember that I had to change of book, Ratus, do you remember? Because I do, I remember, you sitting next to me, in my awesome bed that some African guy made for me, I had my own study table, and you were helping learning how to read. Even though I already knew, because I learned in the previous grade. With this really nice and fat African teacher, she was sleeping, on her bed in between two shelves every lunch time, I had so much spying on her while she was sleeping. But I had to leave Ratus, this awesome book that I might still, even though the Pescarmona kind of stole it. I had to change to something like my friend's company. But I couldn't read anymore, I had to take extra lessons, I learned up side down. But that's not the only thing Mum. Do you remember this awfully cute yellow dress that I used to wear all the time. I think it took me 10 years to actually wear a dress more than one hour. Because after you left, I wasn't the tidy girl I used to be, I wasn't wearing dresses anymore, I wasn't running away from the house anymore, I didn't pack my stuffs alone anymore. I completely re-learned how to be. I've been a boy for almost ten years. Lyon was really good, as I remember it. I had many friends, many good friends, I still have them now, even though I don't see them a lot. But I had to leave all of that for a new life again, trying to find a new equilibrium. When we arrived in Lyon we were five in the same room, I had my own bed, but Dad and the others had to sleep in the same. I was sleeping with Divad, which made me so happy. Then we moved in a new house, a kilometer away from Aimée's house. I finally had my own room, and I still had the same bed than in cameroon, we had a huge garden, and Milou was being so annoying, so Aimée took him. I had Oliver, everynight sleeping with me. We went to Grandma's house every weekends, I liked it, I even wanted to live there.

I remember this one night, we were eating soup, then the only thing I remember was me crying on my coach, calling you but you never came, never...

Then we had to move to Angers. At the first, I was happy about it, it would make some changes. I remember the day when we were packing, I was with dad and the babysitter, it was warm, it was august, I really wanted to go to Aimée's house, but dad wouldn't let me. Then the next thing I remember is when we arrived in the house, dad already put my bed in my room, I was happy about it. But at night I began crying. I wasn't happy. Each time I had to leave Lyon, it was so hard, I was leaving you, each time, your whole family's kind of replacing you, but in fact you're not here.

And then dad presented me to this guy, Patrick, he had Arabic horses not far away from our house, because I stopped horse-riding about a year after. So I began again, and I loved it, so I did it again and again and again, until I spent all my time there. Because I was getting along so well with the people, Patrick and Caroline were like my new family, I loved them. I found a new equilibrium or at least I felt better. But dad didn't like it, so in summer I left for holidays, and I never really came back... It was so hard. The next year has actually been the best in Angers, I did the best socially, I felt better, I enjoyed, but then I had to leave, again...

So we went to Dubai, it was so bad... But I learned a few good things, and I discovered how much I loved dancing. I've been awful to dad all time, but I was so far away from everything.

And now, I'm here, in IBS and I realized how much I miss you, yes, I do, I really miss you mum, more than ever. How much I need you know. I ask myself, almost every day, "Why did you leave?" and "How?". No one, told us how it happened, no one. I just know that, this precise day, you needed to go to the dentist, but why? We always went all together on Saturdays. So you took this taxi, apparently it was one of the first car to close automatically. You took this taxi, and the next thing I know, it you, stuck in this fucking car with a piece of glass in your stomach and you dying and us living and you leaving without us and us leaving without you.

I'm afraid, I'll never get any answers. But I still have so much to tell you, so much...

I still love you Mum, I miss you, I miss our family.