Memories

by Grace Duran

I can smell my own blood.
I can feel the heavy sweat running down my head
and over my body.
I wish my heart would just
Stop.
It is beating faster than it ever has before.
I can hear my hard breathing.
I’m scared, tired, and my weight doesn’t help.
My pants are falling down and-
Oh my God- these men are able to see…
my behind.
If I pull up my shirt once more, they’ll see.
My pants are dirtier than they have ever been.
As I swallow my saliva which is now mixed
with my red, almost burgundy, blood,
I cannot feel some of my teeth.
The soldiers kicked my head,
just as they did with the rest of my body.
Even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t be able to
escape.
Would my feet work?
Oh! They’re coming for me!
My husband can’t do anything.
My head is going around-
I’m dizzy.
I’m going to fall.
Baby, please don’t try to help me,
Leave!
My love!
I am so frightened I can’t even talk or yell.
Please…
don’t pull my shoulder back like that.
It hurts.
Just please save yourself, because…
Only memories of me will remain

Byenvini ooo Pou ki sa? ooo Fotograf laooo Ekspozisyon anoooLiv la ooEkri nou

Students in one of Professor Rachel Rigolino's Composition class
at SUNY-New Paltz wrote texts based in Daniel Morel's photos...