Cries of Children, chapter 2

Chapter 2

Family and friends, all there for one reason- the death of Amber, mother of Emilio. He was there, reunited with the worst family he could imagine, and the worst part was that it was HIS family. His grandmother was crying and talking to the people, receiving condolences with arms wide open. But something was hidden behind that mask of a good mother. He always knew that his grandma was a woman with an inexorable heart, a woman with less desire for raising children than making money from nasty business.

Three things were clear: He was alone, very, very alone; he was going to find those guilty of her murder. And, he was going to shout if those boys kept eating like pigs in this place of mourning.

His uncle was sitting to his right, not weeping, not sobbing, and not making a sound.  He only was there occupying a place someone more worthy should have. He was her brother for God´s sake! Why was he so calm?

A boy, the fat one whose face held traces of food, laughed hard and a ball of chewed chips fell from his mouth.

Behind him was the son of his uncle, his cousin. He hated Amber for some reason. He didn´t know why, but could feel it.

The other boy went to the vending machine, kicking it and hitting it with force to make the product fall.

I don’t care. I´ll yell in this place. I don´t care. How can these people act like this? It looks more like a club than a funeral home. Idiots! They don´t feel what I feel. They only came because it was expected  of them.

The boy was screaming at the vending machine. “C´mon! C´mon!” And no adult attempted to stop him.

Emilio stood with tight fists and fury in his eyes.

“Shut the hell up! All of you!” screamed Emilio.

Pairs of eyes were on him in an instant, surprised or scared.

“Dammit! How can you act like this? Talking with such indifference as if nothing had happened. She´s dead and you´re talking about how the night went with your boyfriend, and all kind of stupid things. And then that fatty boy eating like a pig. What´s wrong with you?” he asked the boy next to the vending machine.

“My candy won´t fall” answered the boy.

“I´ll give you your stupid candy!”

He walked toward the vending machine, and for a moment, the mother of the boy considered getting up in case of some aggression.  

“Here! Take your candy. There´s nothing to cry for in this place. We all are fine” yelled Emilio while kicking and hitting the vending machine with the palms of his hands.

Then the hate, desperation and pain took control of his actions. Hate for the one that killed his mother, desperation because of this hypocritical people, the pain of losing a loved one which left him with the deepest loneliness.

He yelled like a maniac hitting the machine, leaving it at the edge of falling apart.

“If you´re here feeling nothing you can leave!” he shouted to the crowd of ashamed souls before knocking down a flowerpot. The pot broke and the sound echoed in the tense silence, then blended with the languid steps of Emilio. He was leaving.

The sun embraced his body like a warm hug. His limbs were still shivering, but his mind was focused in the feelings that lacerated his heart. He was alone. Even with a hundred people around him, he felt that way. His friends meant nothing to him right now. No one meant anything. He knew that the world would hate him and he would hate the world because his desire in life would be driven by the will to catch the one guilty of her death. He wouldn´t have time to maintain relations.

His cousin approached and in a mocking voice said, “That was a spectacle you gave in there. You looked worse than those kids, yelling like a maniac”

“Leave me alone you idiot” answered without turning around.

“Oh yeah. You said that the people that felt nothing could leave. That´s what I’m doing”.

 A need to fight him arose, but he didn´t know if that was possible. He didn´t know him well enough to determine if he would win.

“I bet my mother didn´t like you either. Whatever she did to you I´m glad”

“So am I. Now she is dead”

Emilio turned and his fist flew to the face of Mike. He stopped the first blow, then the second, but he ran out of hands and couldn´t stop Emilio´s head.

“Suffer moron”

Mike laughed “I'm warning you, you'll have to be less impulsive if you want to survive with me."  

“Leave me alone.”

“You´re alone already.” said Mike removing a smear of blood from his face, and left with a smile of satisfaction.

I´m not gonna make it. The pain is too strong. But he is right, I´m alone. So alone the meaning of life is lost. What do I do? What!? How? Where to start? Where to find the peace? I want to cry. Let out this painful pressure in my chest.

A pair of heels struck the pavement with the indifference of a presumptuous woman. It was Elena. The closest friend of his mother walked slowly, her tired eyes were red from so much crying, but her shiny black hair danced with every step. She ran toward Emilio and hugged him, crying softly.

“I´m sorry” Elena sounded weak and was short of words.

Emilio stayed rigid, welcoming the hug with an attitude of tolerance and respect. The last thing he wanted was affection, the affection of these people. He wanted the love that only his mother could give him. A now nonexistent love.  

“How are you, dear?” asked Elena holding his hands.

“It´s not as hard as I expected” he lied.

She forced a smile.

“I´m so sorry” she couldn´t stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks. “It is my fault. I started all of this”

“No you didn´t, but I want to ask you something”

She nodded.

“Do you know the name, maybe, of someone that worked there?

“You… you mean the…

“You know what I mean” Emilio abruptly interrupted, but with a quiet voice.

“Aurelio. He was the guy who accompanied the kids. He left them at the school and picked them up too.

“Aurelio. Thanks Elena”

She left him with a last “I´m sorry” and entered the building which nested the worst of people. The liars. The haters. The idiots. The insensible. The scum. The hypocrites. Just a few felt like him. Elena, perhaps.

He clung to the parking lot fencing and cried, attempting to suppress the moans. He turned around and let the tears carry away his pain. He walked to the nearest wall and laid his back against it for a second before sitting down on the dusty ground, his head between his knees.

Why?! Why?! Why?! Motherrrrrr…  He cried for the first time with anguish.

Mother. That little word had turned painful. And the inevitable question. Why? Why? There´s always a need to ask that question.

 

Angela was hiding behind her mother trying to walk unnoticed. She wanted with all her heart to say something to Emilio, consoling words; but she had never been in that kind of situation. How to start? And what if she hurt him more? And if he wanted to be alone? She was daydreaming when she noticed him sitting alone on the ground.

“Is that Emilio?” asked her mother.

The two-legged form raised his head and shiny drops of tears were exposed to the diurnal sun. It was Emilio.

They kept walking, then she suddenly changed direction toward him the direction. She had to act quickly. This was her opportunity. Or she was being selfish?

“Mo…mom… I… I´ll go” said Angela with a trembling voice, heart trying to escape, butterflies bumping in her stomach.

“Are you sure?

“Yes” she whispered, and walked faster.

She felt a hand holding her elbow “Watch your words. He just lost his mother”

Angela nodded her head. What her mother said just made her feel more nervous.

She thought to herself, You can do it! Just stand next to him and say something. But I hardly know him. What to do? Maybe later. No. If he wants to be alone, he would tell me, right? But… Am I being selfish? I´m just thinking of me? No… I… I… love… No! How can you say that? I don´t… Sympathy! Yeah, that´s the word. But it is a very strong sympathy. I like him.

Her cheeks blushed with the thought. Her beautiful red temples made her look like a little and shy girl, more than she was.

 

Emilio looked up and saw a girl of his own age. Her slender and white arms shivered on a delicate but beautiful body. Her face trembled as well. She extended a hand that moved without control.

  

 

Cries of Children

Cries of Children

PART I

 

Chapter 1

Emilio was staring at the road from the window of his room. The clock on the wall was saying that something was wrong, or maybe not. The time didn´t mean that something had gone wrong with his mother. She always lost sense of time, she was so… most of the time she was in another world. But the words were still there, stinging his mind. That´s why he started to be more concerned about his mother life, possibly she was in danger.

“No. I´m gonna be fine. When it´s for a good cause nothing wrong can happen.”

What she said several days ago didn´t calm him. What she said was only proof of what everyone knew about his mother: she was lost in her world where nothing bad could happen, without any worries and always having a positive attitude. She was so wrong for not taking precautions. 

He remembered asking a lot of things about the small and childish movement of protest that she had started. And I say childish because she never took any important work with the severity that was demanded; this was not the exception. But they succeeded in their task. How? Like only a group of insistent women could. Women overwhelmed by impotence and pain in their hearts for the abused kids that saw every day in class. Dirty boys and girls with empty stomachs, and pitiful lives. Eyes of innocence that faced each day with fear of a new punishment. All of that moved the trembling and insecure teachers of the kindergarten, with the mother of Emilio leading the guild. They didn´t prepare any plan in case they succeeded. And that was a fatal error, he though. The place where the children lived received charity, and the people that worked there used this money to drink and intoxicate themselves with all kind of drugs. One of them had a very heavy charge by the government, and that wasn´t good. 

Where is she? Dammit! It´s getting late, thought Emilio, noticing the irony of the sentence. 

The headlights of a car swept away the dense obscurity. Relief spread through his body, rushed through his veins. He ran downstairs and then the world seemed to fade with the first thunderous shot of a gun. The second one he almost felt. The third one confirmed his most recent nightmare. They had just killed his mother. He knew, even without visual evidence. He opened the door and found her on the floor, her clothes merging with a dark-red and viscous liquid. Blood.  He approached with a grim look of horror on his face, knelt beside her and wept. No one is prepared for that kind of thing, no one even imagines the pain that eats you inside, no one knows until happens.

It was so difficult for him to see his mother because of the memories crowding his mind. Knowing that she was gone was hardly bearable. Then he just wept while the odor of metal filled his nostrils. By then, people were peering around the frames of their doors, watching, trying to figure out how to proceed. Emilio found the eyes of his mother, still open, and glanced at the pupils. He suddenly felt dizzy as if he was on a rollercoaster going through a tunnel. The image of the pupil grew, but he did not move… that was weird. He felt more dizziness and tried to look away from her eyes, but he couldn´t. The dark of the pupil engulfed him. He fainted.

 

The darkness was so thick he can almost feel it in his breathing. He was breathing that darkness. It all felt so real that he first thought that he had gone blind, but he realized that he didn´t hear or fell anything. So, maybe it wasn´t real.

“Guess what! The children are in the custody of the government and they are going to investigate!”

That voice sounded familiar. His mother, but it sounded distant, weird, like a dream. A dream of a dream. Then he remembered that she was dead. But, for some reason, accepting that now didn't hurt.

“Guess what! The children are in the custody of the government and they are going to investigate!” she said again, nearly in a whisper. However, she wasn´t there, although her voice suggested that she was near, in front of him. But all was black.

“Guess what! The children are in the custody of the government and they are going to investigate!”

What is going on? What do I do? Somehow, I remember what this is all about. A conversation I had with mother?

“Yeah? And what happened?” asked Emilio to the darkness, holding his breath and waiting the answer of the voice.

“Nothing. Some of the teachers are scared, but I´m not. One of them started crying. Can you believe it? But she is so sweet, like a little girl. And that´s ok, you know? She understands the kids very well. It is something that she enjoys a lot.

No doubt, he thought. This is a conversation I had with my mother. Maybe if I keep talking…

“And why are they scared?” he asked briskly. 

“They think they might  be killed”

An explosion of light hit his eyes just after the word “killed” was spoken.

 

“No pulse, no breathing!” said paramedic with urgency. “Bring the…”

Emilio suddenly opened his eyes. His dilated pupils scanned the face of the young paramedic that faced him. The man was so shocked that his lips trembled. He stood there, his eyes fixed on Emilio.

“What the…? You had no pulse and no breathing just a moment ago. You… How could…?

“She´s dead, isn´t she?” said Emilio with a peaceful voice, the effect of whatever had happened in that pool of darkness seemed to be with him.

“Yes” a second paramedic appeared from the shadows wearing a brooding expression.

“What happened?” asked Emilio before closing his eyes to regain energy. Around him he could hear the inevitable commotion of police, forensic specialist and curious neighbors.

REGARDING THE DELETION OF BLOG COMMENTS

Sorry to be so, uh emotional about this but....... take a look at the right side of the main blog page. Do you see where it says "i look the photo"? The story that used to be under that post is gone, however the person who deleted it apparently isn't so good with English because the title they re-entered is incorrect. The correct title is "I Took The Photo". Also, do you see the first entry saying "physical apperence"? The correct spelling is APPEARANCE. Obviously I didn't make that entry. Obviously it was one of our very own classmates. So, my message is if you are going to indulge in such malicious activity - GET A DICTIONARY. Also, someone thought it might have been done accidentally. Perhaps once, not repeatedly. Someone else thought we might have been hacked by someone in the states - improbable. Let me say this: I will find out who the culprit is, and why he/she chose to do this. I certainly wasn't amused. Some people put a lot of effort into making sure they did the assignment. English is not so easy for some. Regarding me being told by other staff members that I should not have trusted the students: I find this to be insulting and heartbreaking. I will continue to trust you. If I didn't, there would be no reason to return to your classroom at all. I trust the people that I love - period. Finally, Remember this: I always find stuff out. It is one of my few gifts.
Moving on - please read chapter 1 of Cries of Children. Comment: Is it well written? Boring? Exciting? Confusing? Is the grammar good? etc. etc. etc.
Feel free to comment on this post as well.

child hood memory

My better recollection of the infancy was when cumpli seven years me habia disfrasado ariel a princess siren this personage me was pleasing much like that that in my birthday I wanted disfrasrme of her

i look the photo

Sometimes I do not like because I leave in the photos because always I work out serious if I want sonreir it seems that I am doing the ridiculous one

physical apperance

I like because my appearance makes me feel like I itself but when the people see me thinks that I never drug myself or do bad things they were left to know since I am actually it makes me sad

substace abuse

When raul my stepfather still has me paralytic these days have been difficult I have to make the double work and study mas my alone brother studies but does not make anithing so i put angry

parental relationship

My parents sometimes they do not like that I dress of dark because they think that they are bad(wrong) or diabolical things but I do not dress this way because I had a difficult life on having known that my dad I give up three years without knowing because

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

DO YOU JUDGE OTHERS BY THE WAY THEY LOOK? NOT ONLY THE WAY THEY LOOK PHYSICALLY, BUT THEIR CLOTHES, HYGIENE, SKIN COLOR, ETC.
ON WHAT BASIS SHOULD A PERSON BE JUDGED?

Cries of Children

This is the first chapter of a novel that I´m going to be posting every week. Comments and suggestion are welcome. Hope you like it.

Cries of Children

PART I

 

Chapter 1

Emilio was staring at the road from the window of his room. The clock on the wall was saying that something was wrong, or maybe not. The time didn´t meant that something had gone wrong with his mother. She always lost sense of time, she was so… most of the time she was in other world. But the words were still there, stinging his mind. That´s why he started to be more concerned about his mother life, possibly she was in danger.

“No. I´m gonna be fine. When it´s for a good cause nothing wrong can happen.”

What she said several days ago didn´t calm him. What she said was only a proof of what everyone knew about his mother: she was lost in her world where nothing bad could happen, without any worries and always having a positive attitude. She was so wrong for taking no precautions. 

He remembered asking a lot of things about the small and childish movement of protest that she had started. And I say childish because she never took any important work with the severity that was demanded; this was not the exception. But they succeeded in their task. How? Like only a group of insistent women could. Women overwhelmed by impotence and pain in their hearts for the abused kids that saw every day in class. Dirty boys and girls with empty stomachs, and a pitiful life. Eyes of innocence that faced all days with fear of a new punishment. All of that moved the trembling and insecure teachers of the kindergarten, with the mother of Emilio leading the guild. They didn´t prevent anything in case they succeeded. And that was a fatal error, he though. The place where the children lived received charity, and the people that worked there used this money to drink and intoxicate themselves with all kind of drugs. One of them had a very heavy charge by the government, and that wasn´t good. 

Where is she? Dammit! It´s getting late, thought Emilio, noticing the irony of the sentence. 

The headlights of a car sweep away the dense obscurity. Relief spread through his body, rushed through his veins. He ran downstairs and then the world seemed to fade with the first thunderous shot of a gun. The second one he almost felt. The third one confirmed his most recent nightmare. They had just killed his mother. He knew, even without visual evidence. He opened the door and found her on the floor, her clothes merging with a dark-red and viscous liquid. Blood.  He approached with a grim look of horror on his face, knelt beside her and wept. No one is prepared for that kind of thing, no one even imagines the pain that eats you inside, no one knows until happens.

It was so difficult for him to see his mother because of the memories crowding his mind. Knowing that she was gone was hardly bearable. Then he just wept while the odor of metal filled his nostrils. By then, the people were peering around the frames of their doors below the frames of their doors, watching, trying to figure out how to proceed. Emilio found the eyes of his mother, still open, and glanced at the pupils. He suddenly felt dizzy as if he was on a rollercoaster going through a tunnel. The image of the pupil grew, but he did not move… that was weird. He felt more dizziness and tried to look away from her eyes, but he couldn´t. The dark of the pupil engulfed him. He fainted.

 

The darkness was so thick he can almost felt it in his breathing. He was breathing that darkness. It all felt so real that he first thought that he had lost his sight, but he realized that he didn´t hear anything or feel. So, maybe it wasn´t real.

“Guess what! The children are in the custody of the government and they are going to investigate!”

That voice sounded familiar. His mother, but it sounded distant, weird, like a dream. A dream of a dream. Then he remembered that she was dead. But, for some reason, accepting that now didn't hurt.

“Guess what! The children are in the custody of the government and they are going to investigate!” she said again, nearly in a whisper. However, she wasn´t there, although her voice suggested that she was near, in front of him. But all was black.

“Guess what! The children are in the custody of the government and they are going to investigate!”

What is going on? What do I do? Somehow, I remember what this is all about. A conversation I had with mother?

“Yeah? And what happened?” asked Emilio to the darkness, holding his breath and waiting the answer of the voice.

“Nothing. Some of the teachers are scared, but I´m not. One of them started crying. Can you believe it? But she is so sweet, like a little girl. And that´s ok, you know? She understands the kids very well. It is something that she enjoys a lot.

No doubt. This is a conversation I had with my mother. Maybe if I keep talking…

“And why are they scared?” he asked briskly. 

“They think they might  be killed”

An explosion of light hit his eyes just after the word “killed” was spoken.

 

“No pulse, no breathing!” said paramedic one with urgency. “Bring the…”

Emilio suddenly opened the eyes. His dilated pupils scanned the face of the young paramedic that faced him. The man was so shocked that his lips trembled. He stood there, his eyes fixed on Emilio.

“What the…? You had no pulse and no breathing just a moment ago. You… How could…?

“She´s dead, isn´t she?” said Emilio with a peaceful voice, the effect of whatever had happened in that pool of darkness seemed to be with him.

“Yes” a second paramedic appeared from the shadows wearing a brooding expression.

“What happened?” asked Emilio before closing his eyes to regain energy. Around him he could hear the inevitable commotion of police, forensic specialist and curious neighbors.

# 166

MEMORIES

OKI DOKIE ' THIS WEEK, PLEASE TELL US ONE OF YOUR BEST CHILDHOOD MEMORIES. TRY USING DESCRIPTIVE WORDS SO WE CAN FEEL THE MEMORY TOO

77

heey teacher!
because I want to talk about my relationship with my parents because I really get along very well with them, sometimes we have our differences but if we get on fine. I want them to know that much and want what is best for me

PARENTAL ISSUES

Okay guys and dolls

Remember that you need to comment on this post during vacation. What kind of problems/issues do you have with your parents? Do you respect their authority? Do you work to keep communication going with them? What do you do when you have personal problems, are you talking to them? Why/why not? What kind of parent will you strive to be? What kind of positive changes can we make in our own families and those of our friends? Whew! This is a lot. Let's try to get a conversation going on this.
Also, please be courteous and read/comment on the story posted by your classmate. Obviously, there's a lot of work there.
I will miss you guys. Have a great break. Remember that Easter is the most wonderful day and that HE IS RISEN! Love you all

Thanks for making my birthday the best ever. You guys are sooooooo awesome.

When I took the photo- A story

Read and post positive comments, suggestions or whatever you think. 

We used to play that we were photographers. Flowers, animals, the dusk in flames, houses, cathedrals; we took a snap of every single thing.
There was a special photo that I stored up in the deepest part of my heart. In the picture, my brother appeared holding a little dog in his arms, with an expression of real happiness. I never thought he could do those horrible things.
It was a night of full moon, the big circle distilling a white and pure light on the top of a dark sky. I heard a scream of a dog from the outside, traveling like a ghost of the dead. I jumped from my bed with the beats of my heart like the rhythm of the drums in a catchy song. I ran downstairs, I opened the door, and I went outside to find the little dog hanging by his neck from a rope, and my brother, next to it, playing with his little paws. I fell unconscious. 
After that incident, my brother continued killing little animals. He started with insects, then with mice. One day he brought down a nest of a bird with a slingshot, then he used two of the eggs that didn´t broke to kill the bird. Surprisingly he had the accuracy of a sniper. 
But then, that day of disgrace, he committed murder to other human being. A little baby. Our cousin.
It was the day I turned sixteen. A simple reunion with the family. I found my brother in my father´s room. He looked me in the eyes. I saw a vague shape on the bed, with no breathing. The pillow in the hands of my brother. I lost my breath for a moment.
“What´s going on sister? Why do you look so surprised?”
I didn´t find my voice.
“It´s because of what I´ve done?”
A silence of five seconds.
“Don´t worry. When they notice that I have killed Max I´ll be dead.
He grabbed the gun of my father, it was on the floor.
“Right here. Between the eyes”
He pointed at his forehead. I couldn´t believe what I was hearing, it was freaky, weird, it was not real.
I held the gun with shaky hands. Then, it was a nightmare. The smell of warm blood running in my hands, the horror of the screams. The world suddenly turned black.
When I awoke the lights and the white colors of the room of the hospital punched me right on the face. I didn´t knew what exactly happened, but I was sure that my brother stilled alive. I was wearing a white hospital gown. I didn´t wait too much to answer the thousands of questions in my mind. My brother, in a brown pajamas was waiting for me, with a canine smile. His bold head wearing white bandages.
“It´s time to go sister.”
“Where? Why are you doing this?”
“Soon or later you´ll know why am I doing this.”
“But…”
“Just follow me. It´s our destiny.”
Ten years have passed, and since that day when I escaped from the prison of sickness and pain, I still doing me one question: What was our destiny?
I lost contact with my brother at the age of seventeen, when I found a new family. That was because I was afraid of what my parents would say. 
I work for a newspaper, taking photos of accidents and social events where I look like garbage, and some of the news of the day.
December 2005
When my memories had almost vanished completely I received a letter from the person of my recent nightmares. My brother, a shadow of my past.
He was inviting me to meet him in a park, the park where we spent a lot of hours with our cheap cameras. I didn´t knew the intentions of that monster. But I knew I had something to do-Kill him! I don’t remember where I obtained the gun or how it cost, but I remember that I was convinced that, when the time to shot came, my hands wouldn´t shake.
The park had changed a lot. The trees that in other times provided a shadow now where thin and without leaves. The little lake was a desert. My brother was looking the horizon from the bridge made of stones. I looked at him with fear. I felt something in my stomach, like millions of butterflies bumping. I walked with the sensation that my feet were freezing.
My brother stayed quiet when I put the barrel of the gun in his neck.
“That´s how you treat your brother after so many years?”
“You´re not my brother, not anymore.”
“But. You´re not going to kill me in a public place.”
“I don’t care if they see me.”
“Oh, I´m sure you care.”
I looked around. Many eyes could see us. I put down the gun.
“I knew it”, said my brother with a calm voice.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“It´s not what I want. It´s what we need.”
“I don’t need anything” I argue.
“Are you sure?”
“I am”
“Let´s get out of here. This is not place to discuss this.”
He turned and, after nine years, I saw his face, his beautiful blue eyes, and his golden hair. He was more handsome that I remembered.
“This is where I live.” he said with pride.
I examine the house of a king. Beautiful furniture that surely cost him more than one of my eyes was the principal attraction in that house of spoons of gold and forks of silver, windows of diamond, and floors of marble.
“How can you pay for this?”
“I work hard.”
Assassin was the first job that flew into my mind.
“As an assassin?”
He laughed hard.
“You think that I enjoy killing people, don’t you? You think that I am a lunatic. But the thing is… I was correct. Why do you think that is not good to eliminate those that bring affliction to the world? We have to eliminate the scum.”
When? When did that sympathetic playing partner turned into an insane human?
“What do you want?” I asked again.
“I already told you. It´s not what I want. It´s what we need.
“Well, What do we need?”
“To kill our father.
“What?!”
“You heard me, kill our father. I don’t know why I should still call him father. He is not our biological father.”
In that space of time I didn’t even try to remember the face of the person that told me stories when I was an infant.
“And?”
“And you gotta help me.”
“I´m not a killer.”
“You don’t have to kill anyone. You’re going to be the bait.”
“The bait is who suffers more.”
“You’re not going to suffer, relax. You’ll meet our father (incredible) in a coffee store. Then, I´ll fire the shot.”
“I’m not going to help you.
“Oh yes. You will.”
He was right. Two days later I was sitting on a chair in the coffee store that my brother, Johan, had chosen. An old man came with a surprised voice.
“Chloé. Is that you? Are you chloé?
“Yes, father.”
My voice trembled.
“After so many years.”
He sat at the opposite side, and then, suddenly, a bullet took away the life of that man. I stayed calm, watching him die, and then I ran as if I just killed the man. I escaped and I lost touch with my brother. I tried to visit him but the house was completely uninhabited.
One Year Later.
It all was a dream. At least that is what I want to believe. 
Finally, after three years I can took photos of landscapes, that was my dream since I was a little kid. I felt excited when I first saw a photograph of white high mountains in a nature magazine. I felt again the cutting cold on my face.
The next day after that I received a letter.
  “Sister. Now our lives must be separate, but let me congratulate you for
  the photo in the magazine. The truth behind all of this is in the pictures
  of the past.”
In the envelope was a picture, taken by nobody, where a family stayed in two feet, wearing expensive clothes. There was also a piece of newspaper.
  “Parents of twins killed. Authors unknown.”
All the lies hidden in that piece of paper. Who killed my real parents? That question lost its weight with all the past years.
I have started a new life, with the burden that my brother, Johan, is out there.
Always, no matter what, I´ll always carry a gun in my pocket.

There might be some errors, sorry I´ll try to better at this.           #166

my hell

old this week the teachers tick out my favorits thing

and nobody likes who i am i do anerstand what is the problem

buy is my life my It is my body nobody has because something

takes from me that i like

115

helloooooooooooo how are you 91?

91

hello xd hahaha

93! omar!

The drugs are actually very bad when consumed becomes an addiction and it is difficult break this habit.
Drugs destroy families, they kill children and is one of the reasons why young people leave to study and work for illegal drugs.
Drugs are really bad.

teen problems

Okay my peeps - let's try to get started with this. First, can anyone think of a good name for our blog page? I'm not real clear on how this works because, as you know, I am old and basically computer illiterate. However, I think that once you have the password you can enter your assigned number so that each of you can remain anonymous (except to me of course). Also if you would like to redesign the page, that will be fine. Let's try to use this resource to advance our creative, social, and academic experience.
First assignment: The Bach. II class made a list of teen problems. Since Bach IV already started a discussion about drug and alcohol use/abuse, we will continue there. I won't give you my opinion at this point. Let's hear what you think - is it a problem? why? how? can we fix it? how? personal experience?