Auschwitz (Graphic Novel) by Pascal Croci

By Pascal Croci

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My mom's angry voice battered through the black shroud covering my mind. My body pulsed and throbbed with pain, I suddenly realized, as if I'd been in a wreck. A fight. Something. My mouth was dry, so dry. My skin prickled and itched. I'll take care of you. Promise. The raspy male voice drifted into my consciousness. For a moment, I forgot everything but that voice. There was comfort in it. Assurance. “Nix! Wake up. ” There was my mom again, insistent and furious. What had I done wrong this time?

Stay strong, Phoenix. Stay strong. As I sipped my beer, I leaned against the jagged bark of a tree. I'd arrived only a few minutes ago, parked in front of an abandoned warehouse like everyone else, and trekked through the forest. Late. As always. I had debated coming at all. Now, as I studied the scene in front of me, I realized I shouldn't have come, no matter how much I missed my friends. No matter how alone I felt. No matter how determined I thought my resolve to remain sober. Plumes of white smoke wafted, like mist, almost like ghosts, enveloping the kids who were puffing Snow Angels.

That sounded familiar. '” She fluttered her lashes innocently. ” I opened my mouth to reply, but Mrs. Howard strode into the room, the door automatically closing behind her with a snap. ” She was all business. A black tailored pant suit, hair slicked back from her face, no-nonsense tone. ” Several students groaned. Jamie's computer already rested on top of her desk, so she punched a series of buttons. A blue square crystallized directly above the keyboard, dappled like water but thicker. Almost like jelly.

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