I looked back and saw houses exploding. People running. Loud shooting and screaming. I could see and smell the black smoke from fires starting. Jets soared through the sky and dropped missiles. I close my eyes tightly and hear a loud boom. Traumatized, I pray that all the people still in town have found a safe place to hide. A woman in front of me is holding here baby very close to her, worried. She flinches, but doesn’t look back. Her right hand is cut, and is bleeding. Her baby is wrapped up in a white cloth, crying. I look back, and look at my father. He doesn’t look back. Instead, he keeps moving forward. I move forward as well. I look behind me, then at my hometown, then the ground. When will this torture end… I thought.
