Pitiful Tragedy

Why We Left.

"I was born in this cottage and I'm staying in this cottage." My mama always said. Paint was
tearing off our walls, bugs filled the house, mirrors were shattered, and the lights often flickered. It was like living in a haunted hell, yet we loved it.

It first happened when we were sleeping and it was during my dream about me seeing my Papa again. Then they came. Four of them. I was awoken by a noise. One of our pans dropped on the ground. I thought it was Andrew making us a surprise breakfast again, but I was wrong. I creeped down the hallway to check if mama was in her room. Sure enough there she was snoring away. I started to get nervous. Sweat ran down my body as I went down the creaky stairs. Then I saw them. Raiders! Homeless raiders trying to snag some extra things. There clothes so worn and one had a huge scar on his right cheek. I remember they way he looked at me with those evil eyes. "MAMA, MAMA THERE'S RAIDERS!!!" I've never screamed so loud before.

Mama came running downstairs. "Where are they!?" She asked stumbling on her words." But I was already crying in the corner. "They... They..." I started. By now Andrew was downstairs. I looked into my mothers eyes. Fear struck her face. "Oh my god...sweetheart." She said. Blood was dripping down my pajamas. That man slashed me in the throat and threw me into the corner. "Marie, the ambulance is coming." Mama said. "NOOO." I shouted. She knew how much I hated hospitals ever since the incident with my father.

"What did they take," Andrew asked. "ANDREW" my mother said, but I responded anyways. "Some food and a blanket."
"That's the third time this month, he said with a low voice." The ambulance took me to the hospital and they said I will be just fine. But all I wanted was my father.