Fayez Ahmed 11A
As the sun roasted the surface of the earth, the sweat from my head slid down my face to the tip of my tongue as I tried to quench my never-ending thirst. My heart was pumping furiously as I knew they were coming. My life had been tortured ever since I was born. Every day I would travel at least 5 miles, stopping at nearby villages for food and water; hiding my identity. It was the year 1941; it had looked as though the war was never going to end. Two years ago, my family was taken into the concentration camps in Nazi Germany. We were living peacefully. My brothers and sisters were too young to go. My parents had once told me that they both had escaped when I was extremely young. But they couldn’t survive for the second time… It had been a long time since I saw my family. Lost, lonely and hungry for days now and it looked as though my time had come to an end. Torture was the word to describe it. I had heard about how vicious, how violent the concentration camps were. I knew that if you had entered that; there is no escape at all. Everyday, innocent women with young children get beaten like soft clay. They are treated extremely harshly during the dark, heart frozen nights. Some villager told me that men who had blonde hair were hanged. A delicate tear slowly slithered down my cracked skin on my right cheek, hoping for freedom. My tongue had started to dry out as if there was a desert in my mouth. Unintentionally, I was traveling though a forest which I heard that it never rains. The trees had long withered arms with sharp claws of a ferocious lion. I had bumped into small creatures, munching away on some meat that had a wild stench. As it was not my businesses, I had needed to take a different route so that I don’t get in the way of anything. My presence had led me to a gloomy swamp. There was something sinister about this place, as if I was I being watched by something or someone. The water had all dried up and the sun was directly above my roasted head. There wasn’t much shade because the days felt so long but the time was going rapidly around. At night, my sleep wasn’t much help to me. I just couldn’t drift away into the night as the glistening moon shone its light upon my arms as I tried to doze off under the dead branches of the tree. At around 3pm, I had heard rustling in the shadowy bushes in front of me. My vision seemed to be blurred because the moon had disappeared into the clouds. It looked as though something or SOMEONE had known of my presence in this weird place; so I decided to continue with my long, lost journey to the finish. I picked myself up on my feet, scarred on both. I had a lack of water and food inside my groaning stomach, but I knew that stopping isn’t a good option. During the night, I had traveled for about 2 hours, loosing conscience and self awareness. The sun started to rise peacefully as if I was in Japan where you can see all of this so clearly. About 2 miles away, across the lifeless looking forest, I see smoke coming out of a house. At last! Food was in my mind and could smell something tasty even from this far out! My ravenous stomach started groaning again. As I started to walk towards the house I see black crows gaze towards me waiting for me to fall to me feet, waiting for me to die.
I barged the man out of the way. I needed to play dirty. Straight ahead. Outside.
. a man came out with a fishing net. I waited there. He was wearing some ragged white but stained shorts and a fisherman’s hat. forcing him to slam his fish and himself onto the ground looking shell-shocked! I had rapidly sprinted across the muddy surface and the heat of the sun was starting to get intense. I quickly jumped into cover behind a tree. I saw some food on a table. waiting to pounce like a panther at the door of the house as the fisherman was long gone. smashing it with a solid kick. I drank some of the water that I collected earlier on. I leaped towards the door. I noticed that the man was travelling towards the same direction I was going. was standing in the corner with her child in front of her. The smell from the house was full of exotic flavors. I see the old man charging towards me. I knew that some strangers that live in a random place don’t have manners towards refugees.Fayez Ahmed 11A
I observed the room in great detail but I was mainly focused on what was inside the house. Consequently. There were some small holes in the trunks of the trees. traumatized with fear! Suddenly. With a count of 3. The old man and his wife were out of site. I scurried out of the wrecked door. I hear footsteps getting louder and louder. and lots of water. An old woman aged between her 50’s. As I started walking towards the door. It was my time to hit and run. there was a washing line that had clothes of little kids.