Dialogue
"Who are you?!?!" my mother says to me as she woke up this morning.
"I'm your child. Your first born child." sassing back to her wasn't easy but I had to do it.
"Well if you are my first born child, then you wouldn't be talking to me at, wait what time is it?" she was tired, and miserable, because she was sick.
"Mom, it's 2:30 in the afternoon. I need you to tell me what to do with my sister. She's bored and I can't do anything unless you told me to do it."
"Well you are the man of the house now since of what happened to your father in the war." I shouldn't be in her room. Thinking of how sick she is, it is horrible to be around her.
Last week I decided to fight in the war, because it's something that I should be able to do. I don't care if my father had died in the war, I want to fight for something that I will fight for.
"Take good care of your sister. I'm not feeling to good." She responded to me in dread.
"okay. stay in bed. I don't want you getting out."
No comments:
Post a Comment