Escape to Freedom
I walked in the door, and my father asked me to sitbeside him.
"Dad, what's wrong?" I asked, but he didn'tanswer. We sat silently for a while; I knew something wasn't right. Then hespoke, and told me a story I could never forget.
"As I recall,"my father began, "hundreds of bombs were bursting in the air and on theground. Everywhere you turned, you heard people screaming. Some were praying,hoping they would make it, but really they had little hope of surviving. Bulletswere flying, passing my ears and just missing by inches. The night was filledwith light from all the explosions, and the land was filled with nonstop sound,but everything was silent in your head."
It was the middle of thenight, my dad continued his story, and he had packed everything for the trip.
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