I lived dangerously close to the border, so close you could hear what was going on over the
the other side. As a child, I didn’t have a clue about what was actually going on over the other side. After school, everyday, I would sneak over to the wall, and sit silently waiting for the same voice I heard so often, plucking grass and fiddling with my hair. Finally, a light and angelic voice sings and I sink into rhythm, leaning my head back and closing my eyes.
Suddenly, there was a horrendous shriek and my eyes shot open, but as a child I obviously assumed it was still the sound of singing. After a long time of listening to the hideous yelling, I grew annoyed and left way earlier than usual. My Mum was confused as to why I was home so early. She always assumed I was studying after school or at the park with my friends.
“Why are you home so early?” she questioned.
“I didn’t have anything to study” I guiltily replied, hoping she couldn’t see through my lies.
There was a moment of silence.
“Mum, why do we have The Border?” I asked.
“There are horrible people across the border, people with dark skin and camps where they are made to work for supplies for our
side” she replied, slightly aggressively, I think she might’ve been annoyed that I would question something like that. I didn’t say anything. I felt slightly annoyed at my mum, aren’t these other people like me too? Why couldn’t I meet the girl with the pretty voice?
The weather grew frightful and the wind slid through gaps in our windows and made a whistling noise, a noise that brought me back to the yelling.
“Can I go for a walk please, mum?” I asked.
“Yes, just be back before it’s dark” Mum said, tying her hair up to begin to make dinner for us.
I went straight back to the great border, there was now smoke rising into the sky and more voices, in agony, screaming.
I always believed the other side of the border seemed like the end of the world, but now that I am older I realise that it was to discriminate and abolish people of a different race, everyday I regret not doing anything about it. But I was a kid, what could I do? But, it’s too late now. The border is broken and I only see people who look like me but still, the world is ending. What difference did all the pain ever make?