Se que no es normal que yo publique en post en ingles, pero este a capatdo mi atencion, y no megustaria desfragmentarlo con mi español. Aun asi, lo compartire con ustedes en el idioma en el que fue escrito.
We used to be Best Friends until the worst tragedy in our lives destroyed it. Ivone and I were friends since we were 10 and we had done too many things together. Every time she was sad she would call me to tell what was going on, to calm herself, and I would do the same towards. We knew everything about each other, since what was our daily routine to which our more personal weird secrets were. She would phone me every morning to wake me up to go to school. We just loved each other like sisters do. But then, one of her secrets, the one the scared me the most, came out and everybody around her got to know it. She suffered of an eating disorder. Her bones where covered of lightly skin, nothing fat. Her white pale face showed us her weakness. She was killing herself by starving it, and I felt horrible guilty for it because I was aware of that since years ago. Her parents took her to a special hospital where Doctors treated persons with this kind of disorders. She attended to the appointments, but she ignored what they said. It was November 11.2007, when I wake up with the weirdest feeling that I have never felt before, and it wasn’t a good feeling at all. I got up from my bed and went toward the restroom to take a shower and while taking it I remember that I was like in shock, with my eyes all opened and staring to nothing, think why I continued feeling that way. Then I went to my bedroom and I realized that Ivone hadn’t called me to see if I was awake already. I called her back, but did not respond to it. I called her home’s phone, but nobody picked it up. However, I hoped to meet with her at school, but neither went so I decided to go to her house after school. I thought that maybe she hadn’t attended it because she got an appointment with the doctor. Her house was empty. Walking on my way to home I could not ignore to feel depress while passing the places where we used to hang out, where memories stay. After all day trying to call her, I finally got a call; It was Ivone’s Mom. “Hi,” I said, and with a low tone and crying voice she responded, “Ivone got a heart attack this morning,” and I got on my second shock that day, I couldn’t tell a word, I just couldn’t believe it, “It was provoked by her anorexia’s problem, that is what the Dr. said,” She continued, but I could not still say a word. In that moment my eyes become crystalline and the stared to make a sea of uncontrollable sea of tears. I did not attend to her burial; I still do not know where her grave is. I passed all the night thinking on her, in us, in that it was on my hands to save her life. I just wanted to think that she went far away, that she is far away, but not dead. To get over it will be difficult happen. No matter where she is, but this misery will never ever changes the fact of what one day we were, sisters.
