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The faithfull shoping trip

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The Fateful Shopping Trip As I sit here wrapped in the cotton wool of my living room I remember that fateful shopping trip to the supermarket. Although it was eleven years ago, that feeling of never seeing my family again still lingers in my mind as I sit and mull what could have ensued. It seems silly now, but for a 6 year old losing your family and being alone in the big world was the worst thing that could happen. Like other adults, my parents were very keen to do things on time, as if they had their own unwritten law saying that everything must be done on that day or else. I'm not sure what 'else' is or was, but the schedule was based around Mondays or payday as my dad liked to call it. On Mondays we collected the money, and then paid the bills, with what money was left we got the groceries for the week ahead. It was during the summer holidays, something every child looks forward to, although there was no holiday abroad for me that year, the comfort of not going to school was good enough. Like all mums my mum decided I should come along to do the shopping with her. I thought she would be happy to see the back of me, but she decided she couldn't bear to see me lazing around ...read more.


The little post office was jam packed, so much so the dusty coloured walls could not be seen. Every one of the four cashiers was working as fast as they could but my mum's notion was that they were being sluggish. Monday was always a busy day but today there seemed to be something else maybe because it was the first day of August. I found myself a seat and to my great relief it was opposite a fan. I relaxed and watched my mum anguish in the long queue and in the calm of the quiet post office and the relaxation of the firm seat the tiredness of the from the long walk set in and I dozed off. A poke on my stomach startled me and I realised that I had fallen asleep and my mum had woken me up. We made our way to the butcher's shop where my mum usually bought all the meat from. As I walked into the shop, the smell of raw meat was quite obvious but it was taken over by the exotic bazaar which was the rich smell of chilli, herbs and spices. Quite calmly my mum asked for some chops, I always wondered where all my food came from; as I watched the meat loving butcher with the blood stained apron and the knife chopping up the meat I felt somewhat sick. ...read more.


It had started to rain, I imagined my rainbow umbrella, sitting in my mum's bag, the thought of my brother sitting warm at home just made it worse. Drenched from head to foot in rain, I somehow managed to get to the butcher's shop. There was that man again, my so-called 'uncle', but somehow I felt relieved to see him. This just showed how desperate I was. I asked him if he'd seen my mother. "Yes!" My prediction was right she had come here, but she had since gone. My emotions were a rollercoaster of a day as it continued. Suddenly, there was a voice... I made out it was my name; I heard it again, much clearer this time it was a woman's voice. "Mummy!" I cried. I was the most happy and relieved I'd ever been in my life up to that day. She explained that she had comeback for her purse and she had told me to stay at the supermarket. I apologised and in return I got a warm hug and a packet of sherbets and milk buttons. It wasn't a bad day I thought. We finished our shopping and went home. This was a experience that made me realise how much my family meant to me and that it is important to listen to grown ups at all times. I survived this time. On another day in different circumstances I wouldn't have been so lucky. Who knows what could have happened? Athaur Rahman- Original Writing 1 ...read more.

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