My secret "place"

October 7, 2008
By Shahane Hakobyan BRONZE, Jim Thorpe, Pennsylvania
Shahane Hakobyan BRONZE, Jim Thorpe, Pennsylvania
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

…The city was caught with fire.My family and I moved to a safer place that was deep in the forest, far from the city and the horrors of war. It was a small wooden house that my grandfather had built many years ago. It was small, uncomfortable, but you could feel his love in every corner of the house. It had huge windows that looked out towards the sun,letting the warm autumn sunshine to fill-up the rooms. The house was poor in furniture:some old chairs, one big table on which we wrote our dreams,thoughts about a better future.I can remember the lines my sisters and brothers wrote,but my memory is unable to find my own ,it was too good to be real. I still have my brother in front of my eyes,checking the table every single day to be sure his dream is still on it.He didn't want anyone to steal it,for him it was the safest place to keep the most important things,as they could be forgotten. The house didn’t have any doors. The entrance was deep in the ground. I still remember the smell of wet soil.The tunnel was not so long,but long enough to get lost in it. It started from the lake and led straight to the house.

.. The next morning, after moving to the “secret” place, my dad went to war. I can remember his eyes full of fright and pride. He seemed to look calm,but I knew his heart was shouting like a lion in the cage. He was going towards something unknown, towards death.

When he left, I followed him with my eyes until he became an invisible dot in the distance. …The city was in fire. It was impossible to breathe. The sky was covered with bloody flames. Everything around me was burning. The chaos conquered the humans’ souls.People were running to nowhere. Children were crying next to dead bodies, trying to bring them to life. More than half of our troops had been killed or wounded. The war had taken from them people who they loved:friends, relatives, houses…everything…..but not hope.They couldn’t walk. They couldn’t see, but they were still fighting. They weren’t revengeful. No, they were not fighting to win. They were fighting to lose,to die like heroes. The enemy troops were uncountable, like stars in the sky and sand on the beach. Their souls and hearts were sold to the Evil, as the victory and blood were everything they wanted . I saw them destroying everything on their ways.They burnt my house and my memories,my days of happiness and sadness.My heart was crying,burning with flame of anger and revenge;it was screaming from pain.I bit my lips and tried to keep my tears from falling.

"Don't cry,no one must see your tears", I whispered to myself.
In the silence of shouting guns I could hear my own breathe.For a moment I felt I was all alone. The scenes of war were all around me.My head was tired from countless tries to follow them.

Then suddenly my eyes focused on well-known stranger. War left its consequences on his face,in his eyes. But that look... full of hope and dreams,full with braveness and pride.As he appeared the sun started to fight against dark,water against blood,justice against the lie.

That was my father.With him I was safe. When he came and the scream and lightning of bombs were just a twinkling of the bell and shine of the poor and helpless stars.
He was my secret place to hide.

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This article has 3 comments.

Noy-Emi said...
on Oct. 25 2008 at 7:31 pm
U r the only person who could write such a story

DiAnA said...
on Oct. 16 2008 at 12:56 pm
It's really really wonderful story.....

Gayane said...
on Oct. 12 2008 at 10:44 pm
This is the best article that I have ever read. Shahane your minds are awesome. I was teriffied while reading.


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