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Hambre

I open my eyes and see food, so much food.
Carnes, postres, y mariscos.
Pasteles, helado, galletas.
Just looking at all the food makes my mouth water.
When I dig my hand into the nearest cakes and shove it into my mouth, I taste so many flavors - caramel, toffee, butterscotch, and, at the very end, apple.
Next, I shove a handful of chocolate in my mouth that melts as soon as it touches my tongue.
Then, I see a turkey leg, radiating warmth and sigh as the juices drip down my chin.
Just as I am about to reach for a cookie, I hear my mother say, "Despierta, chica! ¡Vas a llegar tarde para la escuela!", and a tear rolls down my cheek as I realize that all that food was just a dream.
That I don't know when I will eat next, but that I must go to school, graduate high school, and go to college, so my children won't end up like me.
Hambre, siempre hambre.


-- Audrey B., 14