Ineed in like 2 minutes proof read
it was only the 15th day of the war. my family and me were hiding in our house because the bad men were out there killing the poor tutsi people. our own neighbors have turned on each other. my friend abelle from primary school has been staying with us because her parents are dead, they were killed by the bad men. oh, if only this evil cloud of darkness would wash over like a bad dream. i wish this was all over. my heart pounds louder and louder in my ears as i hear the gunshots get closer. “think of your happy place and all the bad will go away” says my momma. i try and try to think of school and the safe outdoors and… oh my god the bad men are breaking the door down! protect us, god. lead the bad men away from the house. , let them be gone. my momma says to shush because the bad men might try to listen for any left over survivors. abelle starts to cry but one of my two brothers cover her mouth before she can wail. silence. it’s so scary. the bad men might come in and kill us all. the door upstairs busts open and we hear footsteps above us. we wait for them to go away but they do not leave. we wait for what seemed like forever and then all hell breaks loose and the bad men are shouting and making lots of noise. i hear dragging sounds and muffled voices. glass breaks and things are being a dust cloud of plaster falls on my papa’s face, he shakes it off and coughs. we wait. the basement is getting to humid and the stale musty air can make one gag. but we have to be safe and remain quiet.
a couple of hours later, when we hear nothing but each other’s shallow breaths, my papa stood and said that he was going to go up stairs to see what had happened. he takes 4 large bounds up the flight stairs and we wait for him to come back down. we hold our breaths for him. he finally says that it's okay to come back up and we all quietly go upstairs. it was a mess. it was as if a tornado has hit our house. the kitchen dishes and utensil were gone, the dragged both couches outside, leaving large scratches on our hardwood floor. my room has been gone through, my arts and crafts crushed, the pictures on the walls were torn down. my momma’s fine jewelry was taken, and we were looted of all of our food, what was left over, anyways. the shots could be heard outside and we all gathered in the family room to talk. mamma, papa, loui, wes, me and abelle are standing in a circle and we pray. papa says “ you lord for keeping us safe-”
and then the world stands still. it was like i was the only one who saw everything in “sloow mootioon. i didn't hear anything, i just saw. in a half a second the bad men came from nowhere. they were suddenly around us. there was a terrible blood stench hanging around them, they circled us laughing and spitting insults. they were wielding large knives, their blood-shot eyes and cracked lips made me want to faint. i stood in shock and my heart was in my throat. i couldn’t breathe. the big man shouted at us. “sur le sol ! c'est un hutu chambre ? ouais ? et bien alors pourquoi est-il un homme tutsi ici ? nous devrions tous vous tuer pour ce logement roach sans valeur ! ” (this is a hutu house, yeah? well, then why is it a tutsi man here? we should kill you all for this hiding this roach! ) the first bad man to enter was our fellow farmer, mr. nyuiram. i wanted to tell him that the tutsi man was my papa, and that he knew that. that cruel mr. nyuiram grabbed up my pap by his arm and led him towards the middle of the front door. i felt something rise in my chest. it was up out of my throat and before i could control it, i was screaming like a wounded animal. fear griped at my body and the only thing i could do was cry out for my pap. i tried with all my little 5th grade body to keep them from snatching my papa away. mid-lunge my brother caught me saying “oy-petit, ne pas aggraver les choses. nous ne pouvons pas les arrêter.” (oy, little one, don’t make things worse. we can’t stop them.) i dont breathe, i can’t blink. mr. nyuiram looks my dad in the eyes and raises his machete. i scream out loudly. “oh mon dieu” (oh my god.) no, not my papa. my vision blurs and blackens and i let the darkness embrace me. no!