I am one of those people that no one wants, and I am not talking about the kid at school no one likes. I am only wanted if a country wants to win a competition of who can fit the most of us in their country. I am not wanted. All the countries are full Mummy says but we keep looking. I am Archie a refugee from Syria.
We left as the war started and daddy left because he had to go and fight, mummy said. It’s not fair he is my daddy not anyone else’s why do they have to take him? Mummy said he may never come back and the war may never end. She then cries whenever she sees me doing something daddy would do because I look a lot like him; I have his eyes and his cheek bones. I do miss daddy; he gave me warm hugs and could comfort me when I needed comforting. It’s not fair. However, he is coming home soon because he hurt his leg but he may not be able to find us ,we are on a dingy mummy and I with so many other families alongside us. We are meant to be going to the UK, but no one really knows how to sail or where we are going.
Mummy showed me a picture of where our house was, where the hill was where I used to play. The hill was gone like a magician all was left was the smoke that it had used to disappear, our house was like a jigsaw that could never be fixed some bits missing,some too small, some are too heavy and no-one really cares enough to put my jigsaw back together again ,This house is like my heart not fixable.