Stay Classy.

(...) I can't wait another second. I hear his voice everywhere. I see him all the time. I fell his breath. I  smell his perfume.I dream with him. I listen him, whispering my name. Since the day of the accident I can't forget him. His face, his mouth, his eyes. The blood running all over his face. It was horrible. Chills travel across my body.  I couldn't take the image of his dead body from my mind. He was too young. Everything is going round. Every single thing reminds me of him. Of that horrible moment, the moment when he decided to go, to go somewhere, somewhere we don't know. A place we all know and imagine but none want to visit. Or maybe I want...maybe I want to be him...I don't know, I just don't care. Was it a tragic ending? Or just what he wanted…what he deserved.                         

First Draft The Girl in the donkey-hide   My name is Elizabeth Patch and I´m a war-orphan. The war-orphans are the kids who had lost their parents during the First and Second World War. The Third World War was approaching and many kids were entering the orphanage. "The British Communism Council" was an enormous house full of rooms with approximate ten beds in each one. It was full of Windows that were dirty, but always open. Surprisingly no light entered throughout them, even in July when the sun shined and illuminate every single part. Maybe that was why so many boys and girls cried. Maybe that´s why so many didn´t eat. Or maybe that was the reason why so many died. But in fact, we didn´t have so many reasons to smile. My room neighbor had cholera, she was about to die. My best friend lost his brother last week. And I...I was alone...up to that day.   The 1st of January, in the middle of one of the coldest winters, a family conformed by a respectable gentleman, a...