I walked through the cold streets of my former hometown. I looked around and tried to remember what this horrid place looked like before the attack. I saw the dead bodies scattered throughout the town and was reminded that these people were my family, my friends and anyone I ever loved. I made it to the town square and saw my mother and father burned beyond repair. I had watched them take their last breaths yesterday, hand-in-hand, hanging onto their last seconds of life, I saw it all. Memories flooded my mind, ones about fire, explosions, sobbing uncontrollably onto my loved ones' chests as they died. Yesterday at exactly 12:01 pm, the military attacked my home and killed everyone. Except me. Since the attack, I've been wishing more and more that I'd been killed with the rest of them. Since I obviously couldn't stay here, I decided to grab the last and only thing I owned, a photo book that me and my parents had made the day before the attack, and leave to go find somewhere else to live. As I walked, I said goodbye to things and places that I knew. I waved at my old house, and the community garden that my parents and I had helped with, my old school and even the old cemetery where my sister was buried five years ago after she died of cancer. Outside the city on the west side there's a very small forest that I used to play in, and I decided that this was a good place to stay because it was starting to get dark. I walked quickly to the edge of the forest not wanting to waste any time but before I had emerged into the darkness and protection of the forest provided, I turned and said one last goodbye to my old home then I turned on my heel and was plunged into darkness and engulfed in the smell of pine.
Thank you guys so much for reading this! I have more that I wrote so comment is you want me to upload that, if you liked it. Also, please comment any grammar mistakes that I may have missed so I can fix that. Bye!!
~Jess