Srta.

The lonely bread
I woke up in the middle of the night. It was horribly cold inside and outside too. Fortunately, I was right between my brother and father so they gave me a tiny body warm. But still we were all shivering. The little and thin blankets worked for almost nothing. Nothing when it was winter. However, they were useless at summer too. But at nights, everyone fought for one. At leastone or a piece of one. They were extremely precious.
I woke up not just because the cold on the outside that, somehow, filtered into the wood walls of the hut, but because I was nervous. It wasn’t just a winter day. I’ve counting the days in my head since they put us out of our houses and getting all our possessions. Anyway, last day was December 23. And today wasn’t just my birthday --which oneI did not expect the rest of my family to remember—but Christmas. My favorite holiday. Just when we were at home, I used to like the weather. But not now; not when you hadn’t fire or clothes to be warm. Not when a beautiful and fresh pine wasn’t able to decorate. Not when, instead of delicious momma’s turkey, we had just a bread of our head’s size and a glass of water. Nor when you couldn’t giveanything else but your food as a present and passing even more hunger that day, and had to work anyway, feeling weak and cold as hell.
The sun was raising when I looked at the window. Coloring the sky with undefined and precious colors I’ve always admired and never could describe correctly, or enough to feeling satisfied with your words.
I was 7 that one Christmas. Even though I remember everydetail of my seventh birthday. I was 7 years old and now, I can notice and prove with my kids nowadays I wasn’t the normal kind of boy who just plays, cries and his world were mommy and daddy. I was. But I used to overthink every situation. To admire every natural thing I could find. To examine it carefully and remember every detail of it. No one with 7 years does that. But I did. And I still do.After that beautiful sunrise all the others waked up by the hooted and ran to work running precariously between the crowd before you could get shot by some cruel uniformed man.
It was lunch time, when they gave us one piece of a lonely, old, crunchy, tasteless bread. And a bad washed glass of kind of dirty water. It was lunch time when outside, it started snowing. It was lunch time when abeautiful brown haired girl sat at my left with her portion of food. I found her so precious. The way she ate the bread and drink with such a grace and dressy. I think she just founded a new stripped pajama, because it was clean and almost shiny. Sparkling between all the other dirty and with rotted smell pajamas. So I felt ashamed. But anyway, I found courage from I don’t know where and asked her,gently and quietly-we weren’t allowed to speak while eating-:”Do you know what day is today?” I said while baho were visible from my mouth. “Of course sir, and I think no one else does: it’s Christmas.” I was really surprised. She actually knew what I thought only I was counting. She left me with no words. And even better, she smiled me. She smiled me with a sufficiency and superiority smile. Butin a cute way.
I just stared at her like an idiot watching her eat the bread. After a while, I also smiled. And I also stared at my bread. That smile made me not wanting my piece of bread anymore. I thought there, I didn’t deserve it. I thought, and I still thinking, that magical smile deserved better. Just for being brave enough to have a smile on her face during those times. So I took it andput it in her dirty dish. She freaked out: ”What are you doing? No, no. Take it, They’re going to caught us and they’ll kill us. Didn’t you see yesterday’s women who gave her water to an old man? One uniformed guy shot her! With any pinch mercy.”- She said these words with so clarity I still remember each one of it. She said them quietly but at the same time shouting, what was absolutely awesome....