Waking up to the smell of pancakes shot me out of bed. I walked to the kitchen with anticipation. My mum placed a plate of freshly made pancakes on the table, and I sat down with no time to waste. “Now this is what I call a good breakfast” I said with joy.
Awoken by the sound of a baby crying made me think, another exhausting day for me. I managed not to wake up the other 11 people in the room by carefully walking silently around on the cold, hard floor.
Hanging out with my friends in class always brings a smile to my face. Laughter, joy, happiness are all the emotions I feel when I’m with them. “Netbooks out class. Once you’re on, start your writing about your weekend” our teacher said. I took my netbook out and began my writing.
It was the same day as usual. I stepped out of the abandoned building that I called home and looked around. Destruction was everywhere. The buildings on my street were all busted down and the sound of gunshots had everyone terrified. The pressure was on me though to look after my family and find the things we needed. It was hard, as everything here was scarce.
All snuggled up in my warm bed. I was stuffed. “Im not eating another hamburger until the next week or so” I said to myself. I had no more energy to do anything so I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.
This wasn’t the life I was wanting. I wanted to be like other kids around the world. Play with my friends, play sports, learn, know that my family is safe, and sleep peacefully in a stable home. But that wasn’t going to happen. Anyway, I had to get back to my family. The only thing I found was a loaf of bread. Hopefully that was enough to keep us alive for another day.