It was still dark when I felt the ground shaking. I was sleeping in Mommy’s arms when I heard the sirens wailing. I was not fully awake yet when my mom put a jacket on me. She held me in her arms, tight enough that I could barely breathe. On our way out, I saw Dad hastily packing things from the house into an old bag. As we stepped out of the house, the sirens grew louder and louder. Dad was behind us, running with the huge bag. I could feel my mom’s heartbeat racing.
“Everything is okay, baby,” she whispered.
The night air was cold and dusty. The stars were as beautiful as usual, though something was wrong. They were falling from the sky. I still cannot forget the sight of Mrs. Liliya’s house as it was crushed into dust. The falling stars had literally destroyed the building. Now I understand why there was so much dust in the air. A minute later, I heard another loud bang—probably another star had fallen. A metal pole in front of what used to be Mr. Larry’s house was still standing firmly in the ground. The blue-and-yellow flag attached to it seemed to be torn, its edges flapping slightly from the wind.
Everybody was running that night. Out of the chaos, another loud sound pierced the air, making my ears hurt. Something flew above us, and from its silhouette, I knew it was a plane.
As we ran far enough, we saw a car waiting for us. A man in a strange outfit stood beside it, waving for us to get inside. He wore a helmet and an oddly patterned shirt. Hanging from his shoulder was something I had only ever seen on TV—a gun.
It has been three weeks since I last saw Dad. He didn’t join us on the car ride that night. I don’t really remember much about what happened in the car. After Dad put the bag inside, he said something to Mom and left immediately.
The car brought us to this place, a large open ground filled with tents. I live in one of them now. It’s not very fun here since there’s no TV. Luckily for me, Mom found my favorite toy in our bag. Dad really knows me best. Around the camp, there are lots of kids my age. Some have played with me, while others said they saw their houses get blown apart. Hearing that made me think about my own house.
I keep asking Mom when we’ll get to see Dad and go back home again (if it still exists), but she always tells me, “Just wait.” Sometimes, I try to play with the men in the odd-patterned shirts. There are a lot of them around. When I ask them to play with me, they seem to ignore me. Once, one of them told me that we’re in a “war.” I wish I knew what that means.
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