My new house, all my memories, my new life…all gone. Moving into a new part of the world didn’t seem like a bad idea at the time. All the new sights of never-ending fields, sun-fulled waterfalls, and mountains that could reach the heavens. The smells of sweet roses and creamy tulips fluttered about. It was a taste that I never knew before, the taste of freedom. Within seconds…it all changed.
People acted strangely. Every glare, every stabbing look made me feel like moving back home. People would snicker when I walked by, trying to hide it when I glanced back. All these cruel things hurt way too much, and my eyes got tired of crying. This nauseous feeling of not being wanted was beginning to be too much for me to bare. All I wanted was to be accepted into this new land, but now I can’t believe how naïve I was.
I returned home late one night, expecting to get a good night’s sleep, but what I saw was too unbelievable to believe. My new house was ignited in a blaze of fire. The luminous red flames destroyed everything I owned, everything I had. People cheered out in victory as they burned the flag of my old country. These people. These faces. The same faces that shot me time and time again with their heart stopping glares were now happily screaming at the fact that they slaughtered my new life.
The sorrowful tears ran down my cheeks, and as I fell to my knees in the moonlight, I wondered how people could be so narrow-mined and senseless. How is it people can care so much about their own lives, and think only about their happiness? I stared into the burning bright light that used to be my home and my belongings but no matter what they can’t burn my will to live on. I turned my back on the laughter and gigantic flame, knowing that somewhere I have the right…the right to be accepted.
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