I woke up to the smell of something cooking on the kerosene fuelled stove. "Here's your breakfast.", said my mother, handing me some bread. I ate and looked at my surroundings: walls made from mud, a thatched roof, some earthen pots stood neatly arranged in the corner near the stove and endless fields filled with crops outside.It wasn't much, but I loved it.
"Kari, Kari!", said my little brother,running inside the hut. I ruffled his hair and saw that he had just gotten back from school. My holidays had begun the day before, his today. He told me the new words he learned and how his teacher praised him for being at the top of the class.
"Kari, Kari." This time it was my mother's voice instructing me to take lunch to my father out in the fields. Taking the box in hand, I walked outside, stopping for a moment to take in the green surroundings, feel the cool breeze on my face. "Papa.", I said walking towards him.
Suddenly, I heard a high-pitched scream and I realized that it was mine. And then everything was a blur: I, my mother and brother standing over a lifeless body, relatives comforting us and the unbearable truth that my father was gone.
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