Featured Author -Lizzy

Writing prompt (picture) 


Dear Journal,                                                                                                                                           Apr/28/1997
When is he ever going to come back? Am I ever going to see him? Will he come back alive or dead? As these thoughts came into my head, tears flooded down my face like rain dripping into a puddle.  These thoughts were for my one, and only, Dad. He left out to war about 4 months ago and he still didn’t return, YET. God only knows if he will ever come back to our family. Back then, he wrote so many letters to Jenny, (my younger sister), and I, but recently, he hasn’t wrote. Not even once. And not even once did a bright orange letter come to our door, which I am glad for. Those kind of letters mean that a family member has deceased; I’d rather have my Dad alive then dead, that’s for sure! Wars, like these, happen in our country every so often. They usually last to about 6 months,  maximum.  Hopefully, my Dad will return until then.

Dear Journal,                                                                                                                                           May/29/1997
The fifth month has finally arrived! I really do hope that a white envelope will come to our door, which means that he is returning soon.  As I write this, I am worrying by the second. You can almost feel the worrisome feeling that I am right now, even if you were in China, as I am here in Britain. My sister Jenny, has her head in clouds right now. Being the usual 6 year old, she thinks our Dad will just come through the door, and gleam like a shining star. Little did she know…

Dear Journal,
No white letter??

Dear Journal,
Still no white letter?

Dear Journal,                                                                                                                                           Jun/27/1997
I can feel the tingling of excitement all over my body as the radio in our house announces that the war is over! Hurray! The only thing that I am worried about is our Dad. Did he survive the war? Did he not?
Of course, Jenny thinks he’s perfectly alive, so she’s not a single bit worried; typical. As for my mom and I, we prayed every single night, in hope of a white letter. I certainly hope that our prayers are not going to waste.  I can just feel the tension creeping up my body, like as if a cold gust of wind slapped me on my backside.  I can’t wait for the results!

Dear Journal,                                                                                                                                     Jun/28/1997
Today is officially the day that the army must go back home. Since it is a Sunday, the radio is shut off, so they can’t announce the names of the people who are currently alive. It gives out more tension and shivers to my mom and I. Just the thought of Dad not being alive… is a frightening thought.  I am still praying, for him to return safely and quickly. The Government said that if we get a knock on our door, and we see a man holding an envelope, it means that your relative has not survived. But if we see a man, with our dad, then it means that, obviously, he is alive! I am waiting here with my journal in my lap for over 3 hours now. What am I going to do? Is he alive? Oh, God, please let him be alive! I will give anything for that to happen. I love him too much!  …*knock knock* WAIT. Journal, it might be him!
My mom, Jenny and I slowly opened the door. First we saw a white coated man... And then there was another man next to him... IT WAS OUR DAD!  We all screamed with joy as we exchanged hugs and kisses.  To make my hug special, I leaped onto my dad, and held him tight around my arms. I had missed him so much. On this special day, I have found out the definition of the word “hug”; a loving embrace.