The Fences

         They couldn't do this to me, to us. We weren't animals, we were humans.
         "Get in the truck," a tall Russian man said. We kowtowed to his commands. My mother sobbing, stepped onto the platform. I held onto my seven year old brother's hand. He wasn't crying. He was a brave boy. I wanted to cry, but I couldn't. I needed to stay strong for him.
         "What about Papi?" Lukas asked. A young, handsome Russian turned around and slapped my brother in the face and screamed Russian curses at him. Soon enough, the truck began to move. We weren't the only ones on the truck. There was a little girl who seemed to be alone and without her family. She had bright eyes, thin hair. She wouldn't weigh 70 pounds soaking wet. She had to be about eleven. There was an elderly man and his wife on the opposite corner of us. They were crying. There was a pregnant lady near the little girl, but there was no way she could be her mother.
         "May I sit by you?" the young girl asked me. I nodded my head. It's bad enough that they were doing this to us, but to do it to a little girl, to take her away from her family, what they were doing was just disgusting. She slowly scooted over to me.
         "What's your name?" She asked. "I'm Justina."
         I smiled. "My name is Rosita. Are you here alone?"
         "Yes," she said. She frowned and looked at the ground. "I never knew my birth parents and I've always lived with my grandparents, but today they decided to go to the city to buy some bread. They left me at home. Little did they know, it would be the last time they saw me."
         "Did you manage to get any of your personal belongings before you left? Some food even?" I asked.
         "Only one thing," she said. Looking toward her fist. Whatever she was holding, she was clutching it so tight that her knuckles were white. She grabbed my hand and I felt her drop a cold piece of metal into it. It was a pocket watch.
         "It's been in my family for generations. I take it with me everywhere I go, because no matter who dies, or who leaves, the watch will never leave. It will be there with me. It's my prized possession. Did you bring anything, Rosita?"
         I"I got a notebook, a pencil, and a loaf of bread.