Escape

The gunshots up ahead are deafening. The screams, more so. I close my eyes and keep my mouth tightly shut to avoid crying out in terror.

My body begins to tremble when I hear rustling behind me. I am so frightened I can barely move.

A hand touches my shoulder. I know that gentleness.

“Come, my son, the way out is not far.”

Without speaking I follow my mother and she leads us to the river. A small boat is waiting for us.

She reaches for my hand, and we escape to a foreign country only to be trapped again.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher