The sand, it was warm.
Heated by the Iraqi sun.
It cushioned me, like a King’s throne.
I leaned back against the cold bricks.
It was cooling like the occasional breeze.

Suddenly, the air felt thick!
Waiting. Watching. Aggressive.

Bang! Screams resonated throughout our town.
The light sliced through the window like a knife.
Sharp, sharp was the only word to describe that sound.
“Mummy?” I called, my face soaked with tears.
I saw through the window, men in black, covering their faces, guns in their hands.
I was struck with fear. Pure fear.
Again, Bang!
I rapidly dropped to my knees.
Then darkness.

I felt sick, heavy with suspense.
The doorway was charred and chipped.
I edged outside, my doll clutched in my grimy hand.
A puddle of tears by my feet,
just like the blood that stained the sand.
In the distance, a cloud of dust trailed behind an armoured vehicle.
The sand was now cold.