I didn’t feel fear. I felt hers, as a reflection, but mine was simply away since I had realized that my son was gone. And even now, I can’t feel any fear. I am tensed, and sometimes I find myself gnashing my teeth, my hands trembling, but there is not any terror in me.

At the same time, I can’t see any trace of Shane’s determination and motivation, tonight. She must have lost it somewhere in that shed, one year ago and now her face says it all. She is afraid of these people, she is afraid to see me die, to see our friends die. She is furious, again, but her rage doesn’t seem constructive or productive at all, at least not now. Whatever she’s feeling, it’s paralyzing her and I am relieved, somehow.

Dante is my only hope. I need him, we both do, we all do. He’s stronger than us, he knows how to deal with this tragedy better than we do, he’s colder and he’s far more dangerous than all these people put together. This is not something that I know, it’s more something that I feel. He acts like he doesn’t care. And I am afraid I know what this means: he’s not thinking about his own life. He’s just trying to figure out to hurt these people fast and good.

”Mi piace scivolarvi fuori da ogni calcolo
Per riportarmi in riga servirà un miracolo
Coi nostri sogni in gola
Questa notte sembra fatta per noi
Che non ci guarderemo indietro mai
Non ci guarderemo indietro mai…”
“I like it when you calculate me wrong
You’ll need a miracle to make me behave
With our dreams stuck into our throats
This night seems to be ours
And we’ll never look back
We’ll never look back…”

I think about my son, my nameless son that was Samuel in my dream. His teenager face, a face that I will never see in my real world, his voice, a voice that Shane and I will never hear when we’re awake. He’s nothing more than a projection of my shocked mind, this is what the realist part of me keeps on telling me. He is nothing but a dream, he doesn’t really exist. At the same time, he’s what keeps me grounded to reality.