"War is Hell" - William T. Sherman
I remember the day bombs raining down on us without mercy, the screams of young children as they were blown to pieces, and the cries for help as they were crushed by the rubble. I slammed my door shut that awful night and refused to come out for days, crying myself to sleep and waking up with swollen eyes. I thought that by sending my child to school that day would protect her from the genocide in Aleppo. No, I was wrong. I remember being covered in her blood, trying to repair her mangled body, selfishly asking for her to suffer a little longer so I could see her smile and laugh one more time. All I pray for is her journey to Heaven be safe. I was, up until that fateful day, unbeknownst to the horrible, yet uncommon fatalities of adolescents. In this sadistic world, where total war is prevalent, there is no distinction between the extremists and common folk. We are one of the same; desolate, sullen, and isolated in our own existence of grief and remorse. Men, women, and children were evacuated from their homes, slaughtered and held hostage by a regime that had zero compassion for its own people.
YOU ARE READING
Syria's War
Kısa HikayeThe aftermath of a child's death leaves a mother grieving and distraught. Short story I wrote for a school assignment inspired by the true account of a mother who saw her daughter blown to pieces in a war-torn country.
