The night is calm, yet something dark lingers. 
My mom is at home cooking vegetables when I hear the rat-a-tat of gunfire.
This is the new normal for us.
 
It never used to be this way.
We used to play in the streets without a care in the world.
Thunder cracked like bombs and now everyone I used to know is dead.

Now who can I run to?

My poor family was caught in the crossfire and flames and now I'm stuck
with the guilt.
I am wracked by sobs,
waves of sadness crashing over me like the Great Flood.
I get up and look for a new place to sleep.
I turn to look one last time blurry-eyed at the crumbled concrete walls that used to be my home.
My haven. 

Now where do I run to?