I don’t remember a night that I haven’t woken up drenched in cold sweat from having the dream. Every time, I feel as if it would wrap around me and become reality, just to be ripped away from it’s grabbing claws. I jump out of bed, my feet making a soft yet sticky sounding noise on the wooden floor as I run for my parent’s room. I slow as I reach it, not wanting to disturb them. Their comforting snoring made me feel guilty for what I was about to do. So I close their door, hoping they won’t hear the creaking. With my teddy-bear dragging behind me, I forcefully walk towards the darkness of my room.

“Please God, please don’t let me have the same dream again. I’ll try not to be bad, I promise.” Covering myself with my blankets and holding on tightly to Teddy, I repeated the plea in my head. I start to slur on my words, as I drift into a dreamless sleep, knowing God has answered my prayer.
I rush to get everything in my bag as my father warns that I will be late to school if I don’t hurry faster. As I work to get my shoes on, the memory of my nightmare crawls back into my mind; a creature who’s only pleaser in life is to torture me. I’m pulled away from my daydream as my mother reminds me that I need to be in school before the sun rises. I grab Teddy and stuff him in my bag as I rush down the stairs and to the front door.
I gaze upon the stars on the night sky as we made our way to school. It’s very important for us to get to school before the sun rises. People are more visible in the sun’s light than the glomming moon. I grab hold of my father’s hand as we walk around the rubble of a destroyed building.
The war is just horrible. The Government of Mexico split itself and the country in half. The economy crash-landed. People went insane, fighting each other for resources. It came to the part when they started killing each other, willing to do anything to survive. Mexico wasn’t the only country that has been going down hill. Everyone is struggling everywhere.
The thing that really seemed to feed their rage, was the fact that the government wasn’t doing anything. It stayed silent, day and night, as if it just disappeared. The people turned on each other. Snipers got together, trying to take control of the corrupt government. They started on the streets, attacking anyone they saw with resources. Then they started to kill anyone for any reason, going into houses stealing all the goods, slaughtering everyone who occupied the buildings. The only people they did not harm, were the children. They were forced to join the large terrorist group. Rebels started appearing and got together trying to protect people, and helping them illegally immigrate to another country. My father is one of them. They are our only hope of life, now sense everyone, even America gave up on Mexico.
“Aaah!” I accidentally screamed as I slipped on a brick and tumbled off the pile of rubble we would always climb to go to school… not anymore. My father grabbed my arm before gravity got the chance to drag me any further down.
We stood in silence behind a huge chunk of wall that looked like it used to belong to an office building, hoping no one had heard. It felt like hours before either of us moved. With his rifle in hand, my father poked his head very slowly from behind our shelter. He didn’t notice anything; everything was dubiously silent. My father must have noticed, for he took out the walky-talky from his pocket and called his friends.
“Is it clear all around, over?” My father’s friends’ children went to school with me. They all live close to where we meet. We have school in a church’s basement that was destroyed five years ago. The rubble of the building makes it seem as if no one uses it, a perfect secret. Since we live far from it, his friends volunteer to stay at least two or three blocks away from us the whole time for our safety.
“Clarify clarity, over.” Nothing but static on the other end greeted us; my stomach clenched, remembering the dream.
“Clarify clarity, over.” Nothing but an empty void, and the increasing rate of my heart beat.
“Clarify clari…” Screeching sirens went off, followed by the sound of firearms going off. A ringing in my ears appeared as my body suddenly felt numb and heavy. With confusion clouding my mind, I slide my back down against the cool marble wall. I must be dreaming, I have to be dreaming! I must be having the dream again; I’ll wake up soon, I’ll wake up soon!
I look up to my father to see his moving lips and his red face, yet all I hear is the constant ringing in my ears.
“Mari-Lilu! Snap out of it! Get up we need to go now!” His voice, the bullets bouncing off the floor, the sirens; this is not a dream. He grabs my arm, yanking me up, and runs towards a familiar face. It’s my dad’s brother, my uncle.
“Josué, come-on! Your wife Marilena is with the others! We don’t have much ti…” He was cut off by a sniper who shot my uncle. My father pushes me on the ground and shields me, as he fires his rifle. All I hear is a grunt, indicating the sniper was shot. We run, my father grabbing my arm as we go underground.
~
It has been two weeks since we ran into the snipers. Two weeks since I ruined everything. Two weeks since he saved our lives. Two weeks since my uncle died. Today, we are walking. We are making our way to America; my parents, and two of my dad’s friends, three including another mother, and their family; Sarahi and her father and Alemandro and Juliana and their parents. Only three of my classmates are here with us…the rest didn’t make it.
We haven’t reached the border yet. I’m disappointed, yet relived. I have heard stories of the border patrol shooting anyone they see. There are helicopters that carry a huge flashlight. My father told me it’s to help them find people like us.
We have been walking for hours. We’re running out of resources, fast. We only have one gallon of water. I heard my father say that soon we will need to start drinking our urine, for there is no water in this merciless desert. For food, we eat the serpents and iguanas my father kills. We cook them in the morning, so the light won’t attract anyone or anything.
  The blazing sun burns our flesh. Blisters appear on the bottom of our feet, bleeding for our feet are cracked and torn from the rocks we needed to get over. We need to be extra carful during the night. Snipers are still a problem out here. The U.S. military is also out there, making sure no one would be attempting to cross. There are animals out there trying to find something to satisfy their stomachs too. Venomous serpents and scorpions try to nap at you. Insects crawling all over you, picking at your flesh when you sleep, leaving marks from where they once were.
It seems to be somewhere near 6:00am. Two more weeks have passed and nothing seems to be improving for any of us. Juliana and I have been vomiting even more frequent and having diarrhea. Alemandro is very sick. His father has to carry him now, for he is starting to lose feeling in his legs. Sarahi was five, she was the followed by Alemandro who is six. Juliana and I are both nine years old. Sarahi died a week ago from dehydration; she died in her father’s arms. Her father is still taking it very hard. His eyes are bloodshot from lack of sleep. He cries during the night when he thinks no one is listening.
My mother has had a fever, diarrhea, and has been vomiting a lot as well. And my father has been by her side, trying to make her as comfortable as possible. Juliana and Alemandro’s parents are in the same position as mine.
We keep on walking and walking, waiting to see the border, but our eyes meet only a deserty- mountainous region, and Death staring right at us. Suddenly, a soft humming noise flows in our ears. Juliana’s father looks around, cupping his hands around his eyes.
“Helicopter! We need to find shelter! Now!” We all start to run in a panic. We head towards the mountainous region for better protection that seems to be an ocean away. We run as fast as our legs can carry; the humming getting louder. Our shadows are pulled under us as the light of the helicopter appears above us.
“Stop running or we will fire. I repeat, stop running or we will fire.” I thought we were going to stop, but I see everyone running even faster if that was possible. We run under the trees that were between us and our safe haven. I had a feeling of relief wash over me, until I saw the lights of what looked to be vans lined up on the other side,waiting for us.
“You have been warned.” Suddenly, a round of bullets where fired, yet we keep running. I look to my left only to see my father collapse violently on the ground, followed by Juliana and her…
~
“Thank you Linda. We are bringing to you live from a chopper the place were a group of undocumented immigrants tried to cross the border not too long ago. The group contained five adults and three children that seem to have been shot and killed by the border patrol. We hear more and more of these killings almost everyday from the southern border.
These resent deaths have caused an exaggerating amount of protests in almost every state of the United States, with people holding up signs that read, Melt the I.C.E, or Their Lives Matter Too.
People seem to not be able to handle the President’s ignorance to the situation, and as a result violence has broken out to the streets. Building have been set on fire, police cars have been destroyed, students have been walking out of their schools and walked all the way to the border!
There are also people who believe that the killings are necessary for there to be world order. They are protesting as well and committing the same amount of violence too.”
~
To those who lost their lives while trying to find a better future.