Personal Narrative: Gun Fire

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I'm surrounded by gun fire. Women and children are screaming while men fight for their lives. I look around and all I see is destruction. Burning buildings with their pillars of smoke swirling into the night, people bleeding on the ground; looking death in the face, and people running from bullets that fly by them. I shout for my family, but I don't hear anyone respond. I start panicking. I search frantically in the rubble for any sign of them. Then I hear someone screaming my name. "Enaya! Help me! Please!" I turn to see the face of my mother. She's trapped under what used to be our living room wall. Her face is covered with blood, and her hijab and been ripped off of her head showing her chocolate colored hair which is plastered

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