Personal Narrative: My Years Of Death

Decent Essays
It was called the “Years of Death” by my family. With this recent war and the constant need to draft, the food and clothing were scarce. My family figured out a way to survive. We survived off the land. Being in Siberia, though, made things, like food, scarce. “Vladimir!” my mother screamed from downstairs, “Dinners ready!” I was overjoyed. I ran downstairs at a fast pace. I could smell the rabbit my father had killed this morning. It had been a while since my last warm meal. “Where is your sister?” I shrugged and went to her room. “Sasha, dinners ready.” she did not move. I walked up to her and tapped her. She fell over, lifeless. Instantly a wave of depression went over me. We were all hungry, but none of us knew she was that hungry. I began
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