My papa says, "Don't be scared. We're only staying here for a couple of months, then we can go back home." I remember the heat, the burning sensation and the scorching feel of my throat. I remember Papa with the weird black stick in his hand, with little orange triangles that jumped around. I remember his sobs, his skin red and wet. I remember him wrapping his hands around my sister's neck to help her sleep. I remember my papa putting her in the hot cabinet, then taking her into his room and coming out with a bag of red liquid. I remember him making sandwiches for dinner that night. It tasted kind of weird but like beef. I liked it.
