4 minutes left. I see a white toy gun rest on a table at the opposite end of the room. It reminded me of the one dad had brought me for my sixth birthday, except my one resembled an AK-47. He had told me that one day he would buy me a real one, just like Granddad had brought him once. Granddad was a war hero. Dad would tell me stories about how Granddad once single-handedly saved his platoon from the Vietnamese. He would tell me how Granddad was given numerous medals in commendation for his constant bravery on the battlefield. Did you know that during the heroic life of my Granddad he had saved over a hundred people? Dad said he was the best of the best – it was in his blood. Blood. I can still picture Granddad lying peacefully with his arms crossed over his chest. His face looked pale and cold, there was no blood

A small shiny object caught my attention. From afar, I tried to sharpen its silhouetted features, but the shadow projected by the cot prevented me from doing so. I walked closer until my shadow diminished the sparkle. I bent down to pick it up – it felt smooth. I took it towards the moon light: it was some sort of necklace with an inscription on it: Never apart, maybe in ……. .

3 minutes left. Someone’s coming – we quickly hide. I conceal myself into the darkness. The full moon casts itself in through the unveiled window, creating a slumberous atmosphere. The intruder passes by, unlike the last one – although we sorted him out. We resumed our positions. I looked out into the night sky: it was still young, clear, and starry. “Tonight, you alone will witness justice being prevailed”. Just then I noticed a hawk in mid-flight. Its wings may be wide and its body big, but the nighthawk cuts through the open night silently. Not a sound it makes and not a creature it causes to stir; yet, when it attacks its prey it calls the world to look. I once had a bird: she was a dove. Dad hated it. He said it was girly, would make me soft, and told me to get rid of it, but I kept her. Everyday, I would come home from school and go straight out to our old air raid shelter, situated at the bottom of the garden. I loved to touch her soft feathers and stroke her wings. One day however, she wasn’t there. I searched and searched and searched but had no success. Then dad came in, “It made a very tasty lunch, you got an

Some topics in this essay:
Dad Mum, Hero Standing, minutes left, corrupt leaders, searched searched, apart maybe, night sky, everyday home,