Waking up in the morning. Smoke in the air, bodies lying on the ground, houses and library bombed. Little bits of the paper fluttering in the air, everyone putting there hands up high catching them and holding them close to their chest, wondering what to do now…
Dad and I were at home, we heard about the bombing. We were both worried and afraid, hoping this was a joke. Hearing people cry and screaming for help while we pack our stuff. I felt scared because Dad was already sick and I feel this will be my last time with him. He was holding an iron box, a thick cloth and a book. He put the book in the box and wrapped the thick cloth around it. We fleed the village with the others as the bombers bombed every bit. Leaving broken houses, bodies and burning trees.
Dad and I were at home, we heard about the bombing. We were both worried and afraid, hoping this was a joke. Hearing people cry and screaming for help while we pack our stuff. I felt scared because Dad was already sick and I feel this will be my last time with him. He was holding an iron box, a thick cloth and a book. He put the book in the box and wrapped the thick cloth around it. We fleed the village with the others as the bombers bombed every bit. Leaving broken houses, bodies and burning trees.
We were walking for miles. Dad started coughing uncontrollably. Worried I grabbed water
out of my bag and gave it to him. We walked up to a near by village that wasn’t very
welcoming and mean. As day turned to night Dad sat down on the hard concrete floor,
holding his hand as tight as I could, he stuttered a few words I didn’t understand.
Surviving the cold, dreadful night was hard. I cried as my Dad closed his eye’s. People
gathered around each other to keep warm. Dad whispers in my ear “You can do this.”
Sobbing all night until I fall asleep, knowing my father won’t wake up.
I buried my father near a tree. Everyone came together to help me. I had no more tears left to cry. My mind had gone through a lot. People were telling me to leave the box and some told me to bring it. I decided to leave my luggage and keep the box because the box is very special to me and my dad. As we walked over mountains and across rivers the box became heavier and heavier and my hands were growing weak. I deiced to leave the box under a linden tree. Leaving the box behind a single tear came down my face as I walked away with the other citizens.
It has been years since the bombing. I have now grew a bit older I could take care of myself. One day on my one week off I decided to visit the old linden tree hoping I will find the the box. I took the train to the village I used to live in. It was very clean, colorful and filled with trees and buildings, but before I walk around I decided to get the box first. As I walk to the tree I see a little girl, playing around the tree. I walked up to her and said “Hi my name is Peter, a long time ago I buried treasure here. Would you like to help me dig it up?” She said “yes” and grabbed a shovel.
We found the treasure it didn’t take long. The little girl said she had to go which left me all alone. I decide to go back to my old library and return the book. The Library was legendary, full of a lot of old painting and interesting books. I felt sad to leave the book but I thought it would have been what father wanted. I walked out of the library smiling seeing people grab the book and reading it. I will come back one day I thought. Going back home wondering what might happen next.
out of my bag and gave it to him. We walked up to a near by village that wasn’t very
welcoming and mean. As day turned to night Dad sat down on the hard concrete floor,
holding his hand as tight as I could, he stuttered a few words I didn’t understand.
Surviving the cold, dreadful night was hard. I cried as my Dad closed his eye’s. People
gathered around each other to keep warm. Dad whispers in my ear “You can do this.”
Sobbing all night until I fall asleep, knowing my father won’t wake up.
I buried my father near a tree. Everyone came together to help me. I had no more tears left to cry. My mind had gone through a lot. People were telling me to leave the box and some told me to bring it. I decided to leave my luggage and keep the box because the box is very special to me and my dad. As we walked over mountains and across rivers the box became heavier and heavier and my hands were growing weak. I deiced to leave the box under a linden tree. Leaving the box behind a single tear came down my face as I walked away with the other citizens.
It has been years since the bombing. I have now grew a bit older I could take care of myself. One day on my one week off I decided to visit the old linden tree hoping I will find the the box. I took the train to the village I used to live in. It was very clean, colorful and filled with trees and buildings, but before I walk around I decided to get the box first. As I walk to the tree I see a little girl, playing around the tree. I walked up to her and said “Hi my name is Peter, a long time ago I buried treasure here. Would you like to help me dig it up?” She said “yes” and grabbed a shovel.
We found the treasure it didn’t take long. The little girl said she had to go which left me all alone. I decide to go back to my old library and return the book. The Library was legendary, full of a lot of old painting and interesting books. I felt sad to leave the book but I thought it would have been what father wanted. I walked out of the library smiling seeing people grab the book and reading it. I will come back one day I thought. Going back home wondering what might happen next.
