Flashbacks

 

From Across The fence

 

 

 

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. The way that my mom wrapped her arms around me.         

The way the men knocked heavily on our door,and the way my mom refused to leave my side to answer it.

“Mamma, what’s wrong.” I asked her as I looked up at her face. She was clenching me closer to her as if this might be the last time she will ever see me. “Mamma.” I said again when another knock echoed our quiet apartment. Still  no one to opened the door and after a few silent moments  there was foot steps that seemed a retreat.

“I think they're gone.” I told her looking at her peaceful face. There, for that second, everything felt like it was normal. She finally opened her eyes and mouthed some words to me.

“I’m sorry my child.” Is what she said to me, repeating it over and over like a broken record. Sorry for what?  Has she done something unspeakable, was she in trouble or something like that. “I tried my---”

Without another word out of her mouth the door busted open and two strange looking soldiers  came through it fully armed and heading towards my mom. Like a reflex my mom pushed me halfway across the room out of the way of the soldiers. I was trying to get back up when I saw the short strange looking man with a twisted look picked up my mother.

“Are you Rachel Brooks?” The quiet lingered in the air for a while.  My mom seemed uninterested in the question. The other strange  man that was getting impatient with my moms ignorance. “Are you or are you not.” He sounded irritated too, but just like the first time my mom stared them in the face and refused to answer.

This time the taller one made a move. He laid his hand on her shoulder and kneed her in the stomach. She fell limp on the ground and they circled around her. I tried to scream, but it got stuck in my throat and just like my mom my body was limp. I glared at the men who have done this to my mom, unable to do anything. They were bigger, stronger, and faster than I was; there was no way I could beat them.

Gazing at her crumbled body on the floor, she rolled over to the side that I was squatting. She mouthed the words “I love you,” and “run.” That must have meant that she was not going to make it. The taller man had a wicked smile on this face as he reached into his pouch and pulled out something silver. And he aimed towards her head and before I could realize what it was, he fired the gun and shot my mother in the head.

At this point I couldn’t think, but my legs did the talking as I ran  up and pass them, out of the door and into the woods where I ever looked back. This is how my life started as the the girl from across the fence; ever since that day I have been running away, and never going back to that place.

Until now.

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 22.11.2013

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This is to my first creative writing teacher Mrs. Steele she helped me a lot