GUILT
Everything reminded me of her, the way of walking, the clothes, the pitch of her voice… but I knew it couldn’t be her. My sister had died a year ago, at the time, and guilt still chased me. If I had been stronger, it wouldn’t have happened. I felt like I wouldn’t ever be able to smile again, I still had nightmares about doctors ripping her face out, I couldn’t visit her graveyard… and now that? It wasn’t fair; it isn’t fair.
I knew I shouldn’t have agreed. They told us that the girl whose face was damaged lived in the other side of the country; they promised we would never meet her; they swore that, in the very remote scenario where we met her, we wouldn’t be able, under any circumstance, to recognise her. But, now, I know they lied.
Júlia Serrano Marina
3 ESO D
Han entrat fa poc
