Dear Diary,
My life is filled with trauma. I am unable to move. Today I gazed in terror at countless, helpless people taking their lives, losing hope. The whistling wind was in rhythm with the crashing waves. I stared at many refugees crying, zoning out, lifelessly. My father kept me company as his warm body comforted me on the terrible ride. I start to doze off to sleep, my skin stinging from the splashes of invading salt water.
Arriving in another country, I looked around and observed the mysteries that unfolded during this time of day. My father and I take a stroll to explore as I am feeling adventurous. Gazing at the tempting desserts in a bakery window my eyes are delighted. Though it made my stomach growl with starvation.
It was night. A quiet night where numerous homely houses were filled with bright lights. I smiled with excitement hoping to find a place to rest with my father. We arrived on a porch. My father kisses both my cheeks and walks away. I am confused. My heart and body are already numb from the freezing weather. Why had my Father left me? My last glimpse of my father was his droopy face filled with guilt and sorrow. I hope to see him once again.
