It was an okay morning. My mum woke me up at 6.30 am. School was okay, in the beginning. And we got free from school earlier, because our English teacher was sick, and because we finished our English assignment.
In history an announcement came over the loudspeaker that said,”50 more soldiers were killed, in the Vietnam War.”
My teacher looked at me with a sympathetically look. I could not stop thinking about my older brother, who was a soldier in the Vietnam War, although I really really tried. I kept thinking: what if he was one of the 50 soldiers, who had died. I could not hold back the tears, and I started crying. My teacher Karen, told me to go outside the class, and then she would come out in a second. When I walked out the class, people were staring at me, like I was some sort of animal. My best friend, Morgan sent a worried look to me.
After that lesson, I could not stop thinking about anything else than Max (my older brother).
When I came home today, my mum and dad sat in front of the television, watching the news. My mum was so concentrated, that she did not hear me come home. I went upstairs and threw my back at the floor.
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