Sometimes I walk past the house that’s filled with dread, hate and fear. Sometimes I think I put myself through the pain to make me stronger. Sometimes all I can feel is hate and anger filling my blood, my body and my mind. When I think of those years, the awaiting dark holes are released to blacken the rest of the few memories filled with light. ***
The war had broken out and all the children were being evacuated to distant cousins or aunts in the surrounding war-free countries for safety. My parents had told me that I was only going away for a while, the war would be over and I would see them soon. Those memories are the only few that bring light to the darkness inside, the ones that keep me sane.
I had a name-tag placed around my neck; my name and a number were all that occupied that paper. I had no thought as to where I might be going, as far as I had known; it was only my parents and I in the world. It was all we needed. It was all I needed. It was perfect. The other children were just as clueless as I, no one knew what was going to happen, we were all put on ships like storage left in the bilges to rot.
I heard my name and number being shouted out in the middle of the night, it was my turn. I wasn’t the last to get off the ship but I pitied those who were. The ship captain had told all of us what a great experience we will have, digging up our family roots with long lost cousins and distant uncles, telling us that we will live a privileged life, somewhere where there is no war, sadness, famine or drought. The life I had lived with my parents wasn’t that great, we moved from place to place, depending where my father could find work, but we were happy, together. I had no care for what the captain was saying, I had only wanted to be home, with my parents.
His face is something I could never forget. The first time I laid eyes on that fat, oily, sleazy, disgusting face, covered with mad hair and a beard that looked like it could...