Baghdad Blues

Day One.

Bombs are everywhere all the time.
Dad has gone to fight and I'm very worried. Mum isnt eating, or
sleeping. She tells me not to worry, so I'm being brave for her. We
can't go out of the house, not even to buy bread.
I hope the war doesn't last long. We'll starve!

Day Two.

I heard mum crying last night. We haven't heard from dad and there are
rumours that there has been soldiers killed in action already. I
suppose there's always a chance it could be him, but more of a chance
that it isn't. It wont be him. What am I thinking? Dad is fine. We'll
hear from him soon.

Day Three.

I was right. We got news from dad this morning, he's fine. Mum is so
relieved. I don't think I've ever seen her so happy. She cooked my
favourite for tea tonight, though not too much of it. We don't know how
long the war will last.

Day Four.

Horrendous bombing last night. Mum has gone back to how she was. She
isn't eating, although she's sleeping. She's exhausted, of course,
she's been crying. She's got permanent red rings around her eyes. She's
wearing one of dad's old jumpers. She's curled up on the sofa with it,
pulled over her knees. I used to do that with my jumpers when I was
younger. She used to tell me off, say I'd stretch it. I don't think she
cares now though.

Day Five.

No bombing last night. Not any that I heard anyway. Mum is still in the
same position that I last saw her in on the sofa last night. There is
hardly any food left. If she doesn't eat soon, she'll get ill. I just
felt her head, I think she has a temperature. Still asleep. I dont want
to wake her up, though she's been asleep for 12 hours now. Is that
healthy? Is she ok? Oh - she's woken up.
She doesn't look any better. I hope she eats something soon.
Still wearing Dad's jumper. And his slippers too now. I've gone to my
room.

Day Six.

Mum's room is next to mine. Through the paper thin walls, I can hear
her. She is crying, which I suppose is not surprising. This time, it's
muffled. She's got a pillow to her face, or something. Just been in to
see her. She's had a phone call. The phones are still working,
amazingly.
Bad news - dad is injured. He's been shot in the stomach. Mum didnt
want to tell me, in case he got better, but I made her. She didnt want
to worry me. I guess that explains the pillow, to muffle the
crying.
I just want things to be back to normal. I want dad home, and mum
happy.
I don't think things will ever be the same.

Day Seven.

Three days since the news of dad. Terribly worried. Mum is just sat
there, still in dad's jumper. She's staring straight ahead into space.
Tears are rolling down her face. I want to cry as well, but I'll only
make it worse. I've got to be brave for her.

Day Eight.

There's a man in the kitchen. Mum is sat at the table, staring at him.
He's not saying anything. She's still wearing Dad's jumper. Is it bad
news, coming from this room? I stand in the doorway. Mum tells me to go
get some water from outside.
When I come back, she's not there, and neither is that man.
I walked into her bedroom. She was on the floor, next to her bed.
Still is now.
In his jumper.

I didnt stay brave for much longer. Just cried.
I don't know how long, she'll stay on the floor. In his jumper.