When The Birds No Longer Sang by Sammy Stitt

My Father used to sing. He used to be livelier, like the birds that would awaken me from my slumber. But it is my fault that he no longer does.



3:15 pm

Tris, Tekoah and I decided we’d do our homework at my house. I came through the door with my Father glued to the news. I took a glance at it not thinking anything of it.



3:20 pm

I was sprawled on the floor of my bedroom with Tris and Tekoah who kept chattering on and on about trains. I rolled my eyes, got up, and peered outside. Something seemed off. Almost eerie like. I motioned for Tris and Tekoah to come to the window. They noticed it too. It was absolutely silent. The birds weren’t singing. The sky was dark. A plume of smoke was rising, making its way through the trees to meet the sky. I sniffed, my nose burned. At that moment my Father pushed open the door, he was gasping, fear glazed his eyes. We knew. We had to go.



3:30 pm

We all rushed into the minivan, the whee...

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