Friday, October 18, 2013

Auckland vs Syria

The writing in the black is an Auckland kids life. The red is the life of a Syrian kid.





“OMG” I said as I pressed the snooze button on my alarm. Ten minutes later “Beep Beep Beep”. It was time to get up. I walked into the kitchen and was greeted by the sweet smell of bacon and eggs. I sat down and stuffed my face with a delicious platter of  B&E.


I woke up to the horrifying sound of gunshots. The ground was not a comfortable place to sleep all nine hours of the night. I got up out of the tent to the intimidating sight of dead bodies. “Will this be my day to die”? I said to myself.




I brushed my teeth and washed my face, then I got into the car and drove to school. It’s about a 5-10 min drive to school. I got out of the car and went to class. ”sup bro” I said to my friend.

“Go to work, we need the money” my brother said. So I started my 45min journey to the hospital to work as a surgeon assistant to earn one dollar a hour, just to get me a snack. I got to work greeted by a huge line of injured patients wanting meds and surgery. Some didn’t even have limbs.



At school I do learning on our netbooks and multi-media. My favourite subject in school is maths. We do P.E. and after our lunch time. During lunch I ate a chicken roll, chocolate milk and it was delicious. The lunch bell rung and I went and played.

“Get to work” the surgeon said “Yes” I whimpered back. I started handing out meds to the patients. Many patients grabbed me and begged me for surgery. As hard as it was I had to refuse.



I made my way home after another casual day at school. Another ten minute drive back home.I got myself home and plonked myself on the couch with a bag of chips. That night I had  pork belly for dinner and fell asleep without a care in the world.


I walked home dodging falling buildings with only five dollars in my pocket. I found a lady selling apples on the side of the road I bought four. When I arrived I  gave two apples to my brother. That night I cried myself to sleep.

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