As I lay in rubble of what used to be my home,
people pass by panicking; looking for their loved ones, food, clothes, and
shelter that was ripped away from them. Then I notice a girl across the street
sobbing as she holds on to her soaking teddy bear. She looks about a couple
years younger than I do, but I can feel the depression and loneliness that she
shows in her eyes. She looks over, and I nod suddenly as she holds back the
tears that are eager to pour out. I cannot help but to go over and just talk to
her, to give her hope that can help me through the pain as well.
I remember yesterday so well, the day I lost my
family, my home, and my courage. It is all I think about to this day. The night
before, my family and I played a game of monopoly. After about an hour and a
half, Dad came out the victor of the game, although my mother still assumed he
cheated. We were so close; Dad, Mom, Mikey and I. Mikey was my younger brother,
he was a pain but we always had each other’s backs no matter what. Now when I
think back, I cannot help but cry as I remember the times I shared with my
loved ones, wishing I gave them one last kiss before bed. None of us knew that would
be the last time we would be together, or the last time I got to share with a
loved one. Why was I given another chance, and not the rest of my family? Each
minute that passes by through the day, I wait for one of them to appear and
help me through this agony.
Here I am, waiting for someone to come by and save
me from this nightmare. But then again, here is this little girl across the street
that seems to need it more than I do. She must have lost her family as well; I
can see the pain in her eyes. I walk over as she clutches onto her teddy bear,
which seems to be the only thing she has left from the devastating hurricane. I
try to make conversation, but she does not seem to want to exchange her
feelings. She does stop crying though, and that is when I realize all she
needed was someone to be by her side. I can hear the small girl’s stomach
rumbling, but she just holds it down without a word.
She needs food, but she is too weak to get up. I
tell her to stay right where she is, and that I will be right back. I go on a
journey, which is exactly what I needed. I walk through town and witness all
the hostility and depression the people share. People are running in and out of
gas stations, grasping onto the food they just stole. That is when I see it; a
truck is driving by through all the rubble. Adults and children are sprinting
to the truck in utter happiness, knowing they are getting something in return.
The people in the back of the truck are in uniform, giving out water bottles
and small portions of food. I quickly grab two of each, and decide to go back
to where the girl is staying.
There she is, in the same position, holding the same
bear. I have to be strong for her; I cannot show her the worry in my eyes. Her
eyes widen as she sees me walk over with food in my hand. She chomps down her
food, and chugs the water bottle within a minute, but I can tell she wants
more. I decide to give her mine, I can hold off until the truck comes back. She
finally looks up at me and says, “You are just like my older sister,” and
starts crying again. These are the first words that have come out of her mouth this
whole day. I give her a hug and realize that not only have I given her the
older sister she has been waiting for, but also she has given me the hope that
I have been longing for. Maybe that is why I was given a second chance; maybe
she can fill the emptiness I have been holding back.
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