Waking up on my fathers arm, 

like a sun gazing upon a farm. 

Side by side running down a street, 

grenade shards and bullets press against my feet. 

Buildings now rubble, happiness now sad, 

Why did everything have to turn so bad? 

The screams of children shriek upon the wind like carrying it on a river. As buildings collapse, and bombs strike the ground

it seems like there is no one to be found. 

Blinding Lights flashing everywhere. 

The border should be near. 

Running towards the border the sight of half buried bodies and children trying desperately to help their injured parents scars my eyes but there was nothing I could have done.  

Finally at the border excited and happy as can be, 

turning to my father with absolute glee.

Realisation hits me hard, we have nothing, there must be something.

Homeless and Hopeless, a polluted area filled with nothing but rats

and dirty old mats. 

We beg simultaneously every day 

Begging for pay. 

One day walking down a muggy street the smell of baked goods invaded my nostrils as if my nose was bleeding.

In exhilaration my body moved on its own, ignoring the fact that I have many blisters on my feet. 

Pressing my forehead against the window, cakes with flakes, 

colours that shine brighter than any other, widen my eyes.  

Spinning  my head to my father only to see an expression of disappointment imprinted on his face. 

That feeling of excitement Disappears and the joyfulness in my eyes vanishes. 

Another day that will not go my way 

happens to be exciting. 

Father told me that he has found a good place to stay. 

At the back of my mind  I grabbed  that excitement and happy feeling and engraved it on my face. 

Arriving on a house’s porch, a lamp as bright as a torch lights up my fathers face.

Kissing me on the forehead with a fainted breath my father turned and looked at me with a smile, guilty and relieved. He disappears into the black abyss  slowly fading away. 

Asking myself this question,’’Why can’t everything just go my way.’’

The Story Of Alma

In high spirits, I skip through this dark and gloomy alleyway filled with freezing white snow. I feel the flakes grazing upon my face. My shoes press against the snow in a skipping rhythm. Spotting what seems to be a black board in the distance,  I approach with curiosity. Noticing a bunch of names written on the board, a blank spot is left exactly at my height. Without hesitation I write my name on the board. Stepping back in satisfaction and dropping the chalk in amazement. Suddenly I hear a creaking noise behind me. 

Spinning to my right at a steady pace, my eyes come to a halt at the sight of a doll.  Proceeding towards a shop that looks like a monster-like structure I so the face of the window and the doll is a lot clearer to see. Suddenly noticing something strange I use my mitten to obliterate the snow on the window. To my delight it’s me. The mitten, the red coat, everything was imprinted on the doll. In exhilaration I rush to the door and . . .

I grip onto the door,  yet nothing happens. Eager to open it I attempt it a million times, but it just won’t budge. Exhausted, I step onto a pile of snow, angrily giving me an idea.  I pick up a handful of snow, form a snowball, and throw it aggressively at the door, As I storm off  a creaking noise, followed by a bell, reaches my ears. At that moment I’m running excitedly back towards the door. 

Entering the shop, I notice a lot of dolls, some big, some small. Finally, noticing my doll, I come across a doll on a tricycle. Picking it up, and putting it down, the doll rides away in a hurry banging into the now closed door. Smiling, I get back up only to see the doll has gone.  My smile is wiped clean. I look everywhere, there still was no sign of it. Putting my eyes up to a shelf I spot the doll. Running to the doll, I stand up on a greenish yellow couch. Standing on my tippy toes, I take off my mitten with my teeth. My hand is getting closer and closer. I touch the doll . . .

I’m suddenly sucked inside the doll, and can’t move an inch. The only thing I can move is just my eyes. What have I done, the doll has lured me in as if I was the fish and the doll was bait.  I went for the bait and now I’m stuck. Come to think of it The doll on the tricycle, no wonder why it headed for the door, it was trying to escape. So all these dolls are children who have been lured in and are stuck here forever. Another doll rises up making the same mechanical noise. Ready to trap another child.