Abril Gibert Llagostera
The day they took my brother, I thought he would come back. Until my mom told me I may not see him again, because he is going to a place called “war”.
When I asked my father, he said he left to become a soldier, but I never really understood that, he is just my big brother.
Every time I get up in the morning, I try to sleep a bit more so the hunger doesn’t get too bad. The only reason I get up is to check the mailbox, but it’s always empty. I never see the letter I hope for each day, the one from my brother.
I don’t really go to school now, which I think is pretty cool. But I hate not hanging out with my friends anymore. The streets we used to play football in are now empty.
At night I see lights and fires in the distance, since we don’t have electricity anymore, the lights are very bright, and the shotguns are very loud. Maybe my brother is there, trying to help.
My mother cries more, and my father is quieter. I’m not sure of what is happening. But the faces of my parents when they turn on the TV to check the news make me think it’s bad, really bad.
Some nights, my parents wake me up in the middle of the night, and they make me run to the basement. No matter how many times I ask them, they never tell me why.
I try not to think about it, because it makes me very sad. But I’m afraid something may have happened to my brother. Everyone says he is brave and noble. But nobody says when he will come back, not even if I will see him again.
This morning, somebody knocked on our door. My mother didn’t want to open it. But the three of us knew it was too late. “It’s time”, the man said. And I didn’t have to ask anything. because I already knew what
was about to happen.
My mother hugged me, just like she hugged my brother. And my dad gave me the same look he gave him.
That’s the moment I realized, war isn’t about guns or bombs. It’s about the people it takes, and never gives back.
