Father tells me we must leave. There are bad people that say this place belongs to them, not us. I don’t really understand. If this place is theirs, why are we living here? No one told me that it was someone else’s home. It makes me sad to think about. I like living here, but father always says I shouldn’t take things that aren’t mine. Does it count when you didn’t even know?
I wonder why we haven’t tried talking to the bad people. Father says it’s because they’re dangerous, and we have to leave before they attack. But I’m sure if we just explained that we didn’t know this was their home, they would be nice to us. Father says I’m too young to understand.
I don’t want to leave. I wish we could live here with the bad people. How bad can they be? Maybe they have kids like me and we could be friends.
