I´m preparing my bed, seeing how the dog is leaving me. I wish he had stayed with me because it seemed to be good company. I know it´s hungry but, if he had stayed I would have fed him. Now, I´m lying down, wishing, like always, for a comfortable and warm place that I know is imposssible for me. Even when this has been my routine for years, I can´t get used to this and I won´t leave my hopes of getting food and a better place.

I´m trying to cover my body with an old blanket, resting my head on some newspapers. Slowly, I´m relaxing, thinking that, tomorrow, I will look for the dog and bring it with me, to take care of it.

Suddenly, I hear some voices. I´m listening, staying silent, quiet. I can tell that there are three men shouting and laughing. They are walking in the street, in front of this alley. I don´t want them to see me because, probably, they are drunk. I know it from their voices, their shouting and from my experience in these dreadful streets.

In the middle of my fears and thoughts, someone from the building that is next to me drops a book from a window. I move my head to avoid the hit, but the noises are calling the three men.

They are coming, I´m hiding under my blanket. But it´s late. Now they are next to me, and I can see they are drunk and high. They start kicking my body, laughing. I try to stand up, to run, but it is too late. They won´t stop.