The soldiers flooded the streets,
weapons in their hands and camouflage covering their bodies as they invaded the
town.
They
began breaking into people’s houses, banging down doors and rushing inside,
pulling out people I knew, kicking and screaming. Let me go! my neighbor had demanded as she was pulled out of her
home fiercely. What do you think you’re
doing?
My
mother came close to me, pulling me in, and closed the curtains to the windows.
“Don’t look outside, baby,” she said to me, “don’t look out there.”
But
she was too late. Because then soldiers were pounding on the door, demanding we
open up. My mother’s arms stiffened around me, her embrace tightening. Maybe
she would have gotten up; maybe she would have answered the door for them. But
she didn’t get the chance, because then they were shooting our front door off
its hinges. It flew inward, just like that, and slammed into the mirror,
shattering it.
My
mother opened a closet close by and shoved me inside, closing the door quickly.
Surrounded by darkness, I was confused. What
is happening? Why are there strange men in our house?
I
would never forget the next thing I heard. Screaming, horrible shrieks, coming
from my mother.
I
threw open the closet, searching for her, not bearing the terrible noise.
But
they were already gone. The soldiers, my mother, everyone.
I
rushed outside the open door, looking for her. But all I saw was a sea, a mob,
of foreign soldiers taking people from their houses and moving on to the next,
always the next.
“Mom!”
I called into the sea, but no one heard me.
I
rushed into the crowd, desperate for my mother and her smile. But the soldiers
overwhelmed me, and I was immediately caught up in their feet, tripping them
and listening to their cusses from up above as they looked down at the little
girl messing up their job.
Then,
all of a sudden, there was a disturbance in the crowd and different feet rushed
onto the streets. Tan boots, instead of this dirty black. They came in with a
sense of purpose, a sense of justice, a stride that meant, you will not take my people.
A
pair of tan boots approached me, racing forward to get to me. And then I was
scooped into a pair of arms.
The
person carrying me grunted as they were mowed into by the other soldiers. But
soon we were able to clear a path, and then I was placed on my feet back on my
doorstep.
A
woman in a camouflage uniform was looking at me with stern eyes that had seen
so much.
I
didn’t think before I told her, “I can’t find my mommy.” I burst into tears.
The
woman put a hand on my shoulder. Her gentleness surprised me when her eyes
looked so hard. “Little girl,” she said, looking me in the eye, “are you okay?”
I
sniffled, telling myself I couldn’t cry in front of someone so official. I
nodded.
She
gave me an abrupt nod as well. “Let’s get you somewhere safe,” she said. Then
she scooped me up in her arms again and we were weaving through the crowds,
shoving our way through against the opposing force, paving a path through the
enemy.
I
wrapped my arms around the woman’s neck, my face still streaked with tears. And
when I looked up to her face, she still wore that same cold, hard, fearless
expression, just this time something shone in her eye before sliding down her
cheek and onto the pavement where it was crushed by a soldier’s black boot.
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A/N: sorry about the spacing issues and the indenting and stuff. So it's late and it's a school night, but I just had to finish this and post it. :) So I hope you liked it. I loved this, a lot, and it almost made me cry. But I hope you liked it as much as I did! :)))) I thought of this because of an add I saw on some website - a soldier holding a crying girl. Ahh, inspiration is everywhere. But the song inspiration was "One Day" by Hans Zimmer.
~N
