Refugee Narrative
Task 1
Travelling in the shoes of a refugee
For years, I walked to school in fear. I did not fear an unexpected test or an oral presentation. I feared guns pointing at everyone, even the little girl with the pink knapsack. I feared bombs, suddenly blowing up, leaving my body cold and bloody in the dirt of the ground. I was a teenager, and yet still I never knew what freedom felt like.
My mom yelled “dinner!”, and I sat down in our little kitchen. It was November 15, and it was colder than usual. Both of my parents were looking at me, a sadness covering their face in a way that is hard to describe. I noticed the tears in their eyes. They were squeezing each other’s hands, telling me how much they loved me and wanted me to have everything that life could ever offer. “I know”. The only words that came out of my mouth. Everything was so quiet, and not in a peaceful way. It was like the silence before the storm. My thoughts started to wander. The last time a silence like that was covering our kitchen was the day I found out that my brother was dead- brutally killed by a bomb on his way to school. …show more content…
“Your mom and I have been thinking, and, uh. We have decided that we want you to go on a little adeventure, okay?” He was talking to me as if I was a little child, as if I did not understand the meaning of his words. “We have the money and we are going to pay a very decent man. He is willing to help us. The plan is to smuggle you all the way to Europe, and then you are going to stay in one of those safe countries”. He smiled in a way that was trying to convince me. I cried out. “What about you? Am I just supposed to leave you here, leave my home and all of my friends? I cannot do that, I don’t want
Travelling in the shoes of a refugee
For years, I walked to school in fear. I did not fear an unexpected test or an oral presentation. I feared guns pointing at everyone, even the little girl with the pink knapsack. I feared bombs, suddenly blowing up, leaving my body cold and bloody in the dirt of the ground. I was a teenager, and yet still I never knew what freedom felt like.
My mom yelled “dinner!”, and I sat down in our little kitchen. It was November 15, and it was colder than usual. Both of my parents were looking at me, a sadness covering their face in a way that is hard to describe. I noticed the tears in their eyes. They were squeezing each other’s hands, telling me how much they loved me and wanted me to have everything that life could ever offer. “I know”. The only words that came out of my mouth. Everything was so quiet, and not in a peaceful way. It was like the silence before the storm. My thoughts started to wander. The last time a silence like that was covering our kitchen was the day I found out that my brother was dead- brutally killed by a bomb on his way to school. …show more content…
“Your mom and I have been thinking, and, uh. We have decided that we want you to go on a little adeventure, okay?” He was talking to me as if I was a little child, as if I did not understand the meaning of his words. “We have the money and we are going to pay a very decent man. He is willing to help us. The plan is to smuggle you all the way to Europe, and then you are going to stay in one of those safe countries”. He smiled in a way that was trying to convince me. I cried out. “What about you? Am I just supposed to leave you here, leave my home and all of my friends? I cannot do that, I don’t want