I was bored, so I wrote this. It's kind of random, but not really. The whole occupy Wall street and now Montreal kind of sparked this little story. This is how a lot of people felt when they had to leave their homes. Hope raises awareness of what has happened and makes you think of what needs to change.
He stared out his bedroom window as the raindrops trickled down the glass. He didn’t want to leave, but he had no choice. He played with the loose string from his blanket, which had holes and was falling apart. A tear drop fell down his face as he looked at his suitcase. It was almost packed. He couldn’t believe that his whole life could fit into this little suitcase. It wasn’t his choice to leave, or anyone from his family for that matter. It was quiet, except for the noise of his mother walking in a hurry and packing. They didn’t know where they were going, all they knew is that they had to leave.
As they packed the car, he looked back one more time at his house, his home. He could hear his mother crying, but she tried to hide it. As his mother started the car, he stared blankly out his window, wondering where they would go, what they would do. Pulling out of the drive way, the last thing he saw of his house was a sign posted on their door saying “EVICTED”.
Thanks for reading,
Tim
