I know where I am. Death camp, refugee camp, it doesn’t matter what you call it. I am in hell.

My family, where is my family? I have to find them. Everywhere around me I am surrounded by the sick, the dying, and the rotting corpses of those who are already dead. Cholera outbreak, and there are no doctors for us. No one to help us.

Why are so many dead and I still alive. Oh, please let my family be alive.

I search and search. Where is my family? My mother, my father, my sister, my little brother, only nine years old, where are they? Please, don’t let them be dead.

Finally I find them. How did they get so sick, and I still well? I have to get them water, I can’t let them die. Oh please, don’t let them die.

The first to die is my mother. How could I let her die? She, who gave birth to me and tried so hard to keep us out of these camps.

Next was my older sister, Karly. Her future was always the brightest out of any of ours, talented, beautiful Karly. Now she is dead, at eighteen. Why couldn’t I protect her?

My father, who loved so passionately, was soon reduced to a corpse. Why can’t I keep the ones I love safe?

My brother, mischievous little Jay, was last to die. I tried so hard, but failed.

A crushing sense of inadequacy invaded my senses. I had let them die. It was all my fault. Now, I’m stuck here alone, and I don’t know what I’m going to do. What’s going to happen to me?

I woke, gasping and sweating. 5:01, the clock read. Telling myself it was just a dream, I still had to check the rooms of my family members, before waiting for the sun to rise. There would be no more sleep for me this night.

Author’s Note: This is based on a dream I had. I would love it if you gave me any feedback, positive or negative.