My last post was my "first" life ... was April 5.
On April 6, has divided my life into two parts: before and after the earthquake, the earthquake that destroyed my city, the place where memories are consumed by 20 years of life. Knowing that those places are gone is a terrible feeling, which does not wish anyone to try.
's terrible to be alive, when so many of your peers, many children, many women, many men have died under the ruins of your city and you're there yet. You were there when the calls came from relatives and friends on them, the dead ... in a few moments to discover that a life was over, but I could not believe it, not made.
How can my city do not exist anymore?
We had to flee as refugees from a land that was shaking, boiling, simmering with destruction.
We had to escape from what was most dear to us, with the pain in his heart, thanking selfishly to be alive, aware of an injustice that not even God can never explain.
We had to escape from what was most dear to us, with the pain in his heart, thanking selfishly to be alive, aware of an injustice that not even God can never explain.
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