Ration

 It has been seven days. Seven arduous days that I've gone without a full meal. We've been trying to save our rations to last longer. We know we're not getting any, anytime soon. We've been trapped in this hell hole or what they call, a bomb shelter for what seems like months when it has only been seven excruciatingly long days.

The war between two countries has led to many deaths, injuries, and distraught everywhere. The last time I saw the place as it was, was filled with blood, smoke, cries and screams. Dead bodies were piling up, on my left and on my right. On rare cases, I would even step over dead bodies. Or, what we assume to be dead. Did the people who died in the war, have it easier? I don't know for sure, but I do know the survivors are suffering. I am suffering. At this point of time, I don't know which is better, to be dead, or to be alive.

Day 3 was a drag. Each passing moment felt like an eternity. Each time my stomach grumbled, everyone turned and looked at me. Sometimes, I wish I could have the courage to tell them I'm sorry that I could not control when my stomach chooses to grumble in the most sarcastic way possible. I tried my best to not think about food.

Day five. I no longer feel hungry anymore. Five days seemed like months and I'm not sure how long more I could hold on for. My family is barely surviving too. We know we need food to survive. But, surviving on biscuits is no different than surviving on no food. We've been drinking too much water on the first few days to fill our stomachs. Right now, there's not much water left either.

Day seven. All that's left to our ration packs are sweets, sugar, some canned food and biscuit crumbs that were too precious to consume. Day seven, and I realised how lucky I was before the world came falling apart. I'm trying my best to stay hopeful and optimistic.

But truth be told, If this war doesn't end soon, we'll all be dead.

-G