I must move!
Out of fear, you run as fast as you can, cutting your way through the underbrush. Thorns and twigs tear open your flesh and your child begins to cry. You dare not look back.
You run like this for minutes -- no -- hours on end.
The sun begins to illuminate your surroundings. You feel the ground shake beneath you. Supported by your knees, you glance up into the early morning sky. A convoy of tanks approach. You crouch in fear -- but you cannot hide. One of these machines halts in its tracks. A man gets out -- wearing the military colours of your people.
You think to before this horrifying night — the happiness present in the village, the joy of starting a new chapter with him and our child. He was taken from you — to become a soldier and protect the land from imminent war. Where was he now
?
Was he dead?
The thought of it kills you inside.The mass-slaughter claimed countless lives, but there is still hope on the horizon -- you and your child are some of the few who survived. Will the echoes of that night be remembered
?
Repeated?
All you can do is hope for a better tomorrow -- a brighter future for the next generation.