There I was. Standing infront ofÂ her grave. My mother’sÂ grave.Â She always said I made her feel happy at miserable times. My mother was like my rock. IÂ remember the day she died. I never knewÂ he could kill her. The knife gleamed in the light. My father slowly pushed it down into my mothers body. He grinned at me but I did not smile back. After, the silence was deafening. There was silence in my room. Silence in my life.Â I started my journey home. Then, I could feel something pierce through me. I swiveled round, and there was my mother.