Beep. Beep. Beep. My alarm sounded. I slapped it too hard. My hand stung but still silenced the annoying sound waking my from my oeaceful sleep. I got up. Another day, I thought to myself. As I got dressed I heard a lot of noises outside. It was extremely loud. I opened my curtains to see what was going on down on the street. At first I couldn't see a thing. The light from the morning sun flooding in my room was too bright. After my eyes adjusted I saw cars, big tan metal cars, and men in uniform everywhere. What? This made no since. They weren't our American soldiers. They carried large guns. People were shouting. I ran to my closet and pushed myself under some old clothes. I had toys under me that were making me very uncomfortable. The clothes made it hard to breathe. What's happening out there? I heard our front door being kicked in. My stomach to dropped to the floor. My mother's scream came next. Then two gun shots. Silence. Daytona. My sister. What if she isn't hiding? My head was pounding now. I heard quiet foot steps by my door. Then running. Her bedroom door slammed shut and locked. She was caught, I just knew it. I closed my ears. As much as I wanted to get up I knew that I couldn't. I heard sounds on the stairs. Crack! My door flew open hitting my wall hard. The sound made me jump and I threw my hand over my mouth to keep from screaming. They were coming over to my closet. I could hear their boots on the soft  white carpet. The knob twisted and they shined a flash light through my closet. I didn't move. I simply waited, holding my breath. I listened as they walked away.

"Where do she go," a man's voice.

I knew they were talking about Daytona. I hoped that she was hiding somewhere good. I hoped that she would be okay and that when these men left our house I would find her safe. Just when I was sure they hadn't found her, she screamed. Two gun shots. Why two? One of the men yelled. "Shit dude, she almost killed you." I smiled knowing that she defended herself. I wondered if she were okay. Wondering and hoping was killing me. I waited there in the dark until I heard the men leave the house. Once I was sure that the coast was clear I came out of hiding. I walked out of my room quietly. It smelled of fresh blood. I turned back into my bedroom and closed the door. I knew I didn't want to see what had happened. I knew my sister was dead. I grabbed my camera and my tripod from a corner. I put them pointing out my window and zoomed in to see up close what was going on down on the streets without somebody seeing me. I watched a lot of deaths play out of the small camera screen. It almost seemed like a movie until I saw my neighbor, Mr. Clark. He was running at a soldier. His gun raised. A shot sounded and the soldier fell, and then another. A few turned and aimed at Mr. Clark. He paused for only a second and then fired some more shots. He hit two more soldiers and then fell in a pool of his own blood as bullets flew in his direction. I looked away from my camera. This nightmare is no movie. It is real.