A War Within Two Worlds

Ditch

Yasmini's POV

I was born to a Brazilian mother, Bonita, and an Iranian father, Aziz. I was the oldest of 3, I had two younger brothers, Eván and Havdi. We were a perfectly happy family.

But now it was war.

I sat in the sandy ditch that was dug between my house and the road. 15 feet away was the jungle, but I didn't dare run incase they'd see me.
I don't even know who the enemy is.
But nevertheless, I leaned against the cold cement walls that helped cool my bare back from being scorched by the harsh sun.

I lived by the coast of Brazil. I spent the days by the water and then picking fruits for my parents to sell at the market. We weren't rich, but we were happy.

We were happy before the guns came. Now they were here, the same people my father ran from and refused to talk about. My mother called them demônios brancos, the white devils.

I wasn't home when it happened, I was with my best friend Eliza, but now she was probably dead. They all were. I didn't know what was worse, the fact that it was quiet, or the fact I wanted to hear something. But there was nothing, no cries for help, no begging for ones life. Silence. Unbeatable silence.

Now here I am, waiting for dark so I can slink away without being seen. I haven't heard gunshots for hours now, but I don't dare risk it until dusk.

Hours later after the sun set, I crawled out of the ditch and into my house. My brothers were in the living room. Their eyes were open and blank, their blood was blooming onto the green carpet our mother tried so hard to keep clean. Next to them were their swimming trunks, if only I waited for them.

My mom was slumped over the kitchen table. Flies were devouring the remainder of her sandwich. I gagged as I saw one fly from her kith and threw up in the sink.

Next I went up the stairs to my room. I passed the bathroom where my dad was laying with a once white towel around his waist, he must have just gotten out of the shower.

The floorboard creaked as I walked into my room. I sat on my blue blanket and cried. I cried for my mom, who would never be able to buy the kitten she always wanted. For my dad, who would never have the accomplishment of sending all of his kids —even his daughter— to graduate school. And for my brothers, who would never be able to become fire fighters, doctors, zoo keepers, or whatever they dreamed of that day.

Eventually I picked myself off my bed and grabbed my beach bag. I shook the white sand from the bag and took out my suit. Instead, I put in enough clothes to last me 4 days. I tied up my bag and grabbed any portrait or birthday card I could fit. Then I put my blanket around my neck like a towel.

I tiptoed to the door after I kissed everyone on the head one last time. I wanted to stay here and cry. But what would happen when the June heat warmed their corpses tomorrow? What if the militia came back to finish me off?

I shut and locked the door behind me and locked it. It's funny, I always forgot to lock the door, my family would get so upset. But now they're dead and I'm finally doing it.

I hope they're proud.

I ran into the familiar jungle where I'd climb trees with Eliza.

Eliza.

I looked back on our little town. I didn't hear anything, not even the stay dogs. Against my gut, I turned back.

I stayed in the shadows away from the moonlight. I was too afraid to slap the mosquitoes from my face incase someone would hear.

I saw Eliza's brick house, it was the fanciest in the town. Eliza's father was very wealthy, he was a doctor that dedicated his life to beating consumption, the same disease Eliza's mom died from before she moved here. The door was open and I peered in. Dr. Pintozzi was sprawled on the ground.
"Eliza?" I whispered.
"Yasmini?"
Eliza peered around the corner. I ran and hugged her.
"M-my d-dad—"
"Mine are too."
We sobbed together in the dark for a moment.
"Mini, we need to leave."
"Do you have a bag packed?"
Eliza nodded and went back into her room and came back with a bag matching mine.
"Stay low and quiet."
Eliza nodded.

We were in the dark of the jungle.
"There's no one left, is there?" I whispered. Eliza didn't even have to say anything, I knew I was right. I heard a twig snap behind us and I spun around. Eliza walked toward the sound. I tired to grab her by her bag but she shook me off.
"Is anyone there? We can help you, just come out. It's ok."
A tall man stepped out in front of us. He had green print painted on his face to blend in, his uniform matched. He had a gun slung over the front of his chest. I shrieked and ran, but when I turned around Eliza was still where I left her 10 feet away. I heard her scream and then a gunshot. I put my hands over my mouth to keep from sobbing. The man ran towards me and others like him emerged from the trees.
"Get back." I cried, but they only came in closer.
"You're a pretty girl."
"So was Eliza." I bit.
"But not as pretty as you." The man who killed Eliza let his fingers linger around my torso longer than I would appreciate. My dad always taught me to kick between the knees when a man touched me without my permission. But their guns weren't aimed at me anymore and I wanted to keep it that way.
"Get back." I said a little bit louder.
"Feisty. We should keep her." Another green man said.
I'm "I said, GET BACK." I put all my force into the scream. I heard others yell and trees crack with force. When I opened my eyes, all the men around me were dead except for one who was running away. I took a gun and all of the amp from the men and a large knife.

I went back to Eliza and said goodbye one last time.
"Te amo."

I was only 13

4/19/21

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