i'm in the eleventh grade now, lera gavrik, she writes to me at 12:30 at night you sleep and speak im doesn't answer me. at seven o'clock in the evening, that is, my mother left, she makes a taxi driver and does not answer. mom had to go back and forth and silence. i am i'm starting to calm down in the summer. it may have screwed itself up. it's half past midnight. well, a little recommended hour. there was a broken wheel. until two o'clock in the morning i tried to get this anxiety to pass into her, or come on. we'll call there for him, i'll call the police. i will look for my mother a little. well, that's all, she does not hear all the persuasion that maybe it's just some kind of family situation. something happened. and then immediately thoughts about something bad, and such a bad one at 7:00 in the morning. mom got in touch. really. at she broke down. the car ran out of battery, the child exhaled. well, yes, she had to hold on to this moment so that she really didn’t do something, maybe she didn’t go out at night to look for her mother, but this is also all an emotion - this is a