I cuddle beside my father, hoping that my mother is safe. I tighten my grip as soldiers ordered us out of our houses. Dad scurried into his closet and presents the old iron box that used to hold my mothers jewellery. Inside he placed his book, a book that he borrowed from the library before it crumbled and shattered into pieces of dust. I quickly examine the box and hold it towards my chest. I feel my father's presence brush up against my shoulder as his cold firm hands land on my shoulders, I gaze up at him as water builds up in my pupils, "keep this box safe as it holds the book of our people" dad.
The moon shines bright through the clouds of grey, my father has fallen ill. Our house has collapsed so we were now temporarily staying in an old damp shed. I sat beside him as a dry cough escaped his throat and his nose turns a dark red. I don't want to lose him. A wind of dust brush past us as I slide into his arms and lay my head on his shoulder as waterfalls run down my face. The room feels gloomy. My heart slowly breaks. Dad runs his stone cold fingers through my hair as he whispers "I love you". I'm feeling emotionally melancholy watching my father fall deeply into a place where I won't be able to see him, ever again.
As the sun rose, my spirit settled. My knees weaken as I stumble to the ground gazing at 6 older men lower my father into the hole. A stream of tears run down my cheek as my grip on the iron box loosens. I struggle to get back on my legs, constantly wiping my tears as I said my final goodbye.
We are leaving today, I have no choice but to leave this cruel war. Before we started our journey, an arrogant man raised his right eyebrow at me and told me to leave the "stupid" box behind. Instead I left my suitcase as the box to me was more precious!
My legs struggled to move as they sink into the deep white snow. My fingers ache and feel numb, the iron box is super heavy! We finally reached our new village, it doesn't seem the same. I trudge into a room filled with innocent, tired villagers. Although there are a lot of people around me, I still feel lonely.
The iron box is too heavy to carry, I need to think about what I should do with it. I come across a beautiful ancient linden tree, and buried the box safely. Where it could not be stolen or bombed.
A few years later, I have grown into an independent older man. I decided to find the treasure. I see a beautiful joyful young girl picking red and orange leaves from the tree. I gently invite her over to help me dig up the treasure. I'm sure she was hoping for Gold or Silver, but instead we find a book that holds our history, with mouldy torn pages and covered in dust. I read her 3 pages before the little girl had to leave for her curfew. I cleaned off the leftover dust and carefully put it safely into my black duffel bag making sure that no pages fell out and it wasn't contaminated with my afternoon lunch.
It was finally safe to return, so I journeyed through the streets with the sun shining brighter than the stars. I wandered through the beautiful new renovated buildings and entered the new library. It looked so fancy that I forgot what the old library looked like, the fresh lavender scented air filled my lungs as gracious librarians welcome me. Bright colors fill the room as I walk towards the big yellow sign stating 'History.' I carefully place the book on the middle shelf were both big and small could reach. It wasn't the most attractive but it stood out. I walked away and turned around to take another glance.
