- Este texto fue premiado con el Primer Premio en la Categoría A (Segundo Ciclo de ESO) del concurso “Letters from the past”.
Today I killed 167 Jewish people, but I still don’t feel anything, I don’t feel good about killing them, but I don’t feel bad either.
I miss painting, the fact that you can recreate every single thought that comes to your head, fascinates me.
I remember when I told my mum that I wanted to be an artist, but she didn’t let me, I guess she was right when she told me that I needed to work in something more successful.
If I had listened to my mother, that teacher wouldn’t have had to waste his precious time on my awful paintings.
I always thought that the teacher was right when he told me to stop painting, but sometimes I imagine a life being an artist, selling my pieces of art in the street, having a lover supporting me.
But I guess that life is just not for me, God wanted a different destiny for me, so I have to accept it, like everyone else.
People have their own destiny, even if they don’t want to, that’s why I accept it, and here I am, killing Jewish people, but I can’t blame myself for doing it, it’s their destiny, I am just helping them to find their way.