It was so painful to watch my childhood home being destroyed, all I found was a small stone in the ashes. I would treasure it, keep it safe in my pocket, that was all I had left from my home. After a long and terrifying walk, we finally reached our farm. The mental meanderings of that walk had made me sleepy. My mare, Lolo, was resting at the barn, I leaned at her neck and dozed off. The nickering of my father’s horses woke me up, in horror I watched them being lead toward the wood. Deep holes had been dug to hide the horses from the enemy. I felt that my heart was torn apart piece by piece, some men pushed me away from my beloved Lolo and disappeared into the wood with her. I ran and called her name, she did not hear me, I had lost my voice. The trauma of that day on the way to our farm, had taken its toll. Would I ever find my Lolo? All the men were gone and I was alone, trying to find my mare. Nightfall. It became dark, I didn’t feel alone, I just kept looking for my Lolo.
