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Desi ZeceñaLunes, 1 de agosto de 2011. Last week, I was coming back home from school. I was about to open the door when my dad suddenly opened it for me. A smile automatically came to my face and we said hello. 8220;Where are you going? 8221; I asked. 8220;Um, to the hospital” His voice sounded normal as he replied, but I knew he was hiding his preoccupation, as he usually does. 8221; I asked again, curious. 8220;David got shot”. What do you mean? 8221; I had so many questions I didn’t even know where to start.
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