Chapter 1

I can still clearly remember waking up and thinking the day felt wrong. The smell wasn’t quite the same. I know that you can’t smell days, that’s simply just plain old irrational, but still I could. The rays hitting my face that morning weren’t quite the same either. They didn’t have the same temperature or brightness. It was just different and wrong. I felt a slight chill travel down my spine. It was very unpleasant. I got out of my bed, whcih was a relief. It was an aweful wooden bed with a thin matress and a wooly, scratchy blanket.

My dress was hanging on a chair. It was such a horrible, grey thing, which I hated, along with the tight, tiny, black flats, which I was forced to wear. Every morning I got up took on my clothes and braided my hair. Same routine every day, never ending just going on indefinatly. I would wrap two, black bows around the braids. And this day was no exception. I dragged myself into the kitchen. My little sister and brother were both sitting at the table eating breakfast. My sister wore the same clothing as I did. My brother wore grey trousers, a white shirt and black shoes. I sat down next to my sister and began eating.

My brother turned on the radio. The only news were those of war. More people were killed, what a surprise. My dad and two elder brothers were out fighting and I just couldn't save them. I was a fourteen year old girl, which meant I was powerless. My mom waltzed into the kitchen. She wore the same blue, cotton dress as usual. Another sleepless night. I could still remember how tired she looked that morning. She had big bags under her eyes and she continueously jawned.

The End

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