I’m writing to you about war, death, injuries, shells, sadness and sorrow. Almost all my friends have left. Even if they were here, who knows whether we’d be able to see one another. The phones aren’t working, we couldn’t even talk to one another. Vanja and Andrej have gone to join Srdjan in Dubrovnik. The war has stopped there. They’re lucky. I was so unhappy because of that war in Dubrovnik. I never dreamed it would move to Sarajevo. Verica and Bojana have also left. I now spend all my time with Bojana and Maja. They’re my best friends now. Bojana is a year-and-a-half older than me, she’s finished seventh grade and we have a lot in common. Maja is in her last year of school. She’s much older than I am, but she’s wonderful. I’m lucky to have them, otherwise I’d be all alone among the grown-ups. On the news they reported the death of Silva Rizvanbegović, a doctor at the Emergency Clinic, who’s Mommy’s friend. She was in an ambulance. They were driving a wounded man to get him help.
