Sleeping in my bed, I was sound asleep, the tick of the grandfather clock was like the lullaby a mother sings to her child. Soon, the room dropped into silence and the grandfather clock no longer ticked. In my curiosity, I got up from the comfort of my bed and turned towards the small window from the far side of the room. The pitter-patter of what I thought was rain, ran along the worn down glass, but slowly recognition came as small little fingers, formed into dark colored splotches in the distance. A little whimper escaped my mouth as the glass slowly, but surely, cracked, as lines spread from the center like wild fire. In slow motion, flickers of gleaming shards broke from their place and flung out in large pieces which landed on the floor. I hid under my bed. The Boogie Man hides there, but I'd rather be gone with him then witness the destruction of what I once loved.
        Soon the night faded into daylight, and my spirits were lifted as the sun roused me from my slumber, thinking it was all just a bad dream. To my dismay, shards of glass were scattered across the bedroom floor as it was hours before. Loud cries filled the air in anguish and anger as many woke up to their broken glass windows and the smell of smoke. It wasn't long before the men in green coats arrived, and under further 'investigation,' as they call it, they announced it was the Jews. Announced that we were the culprits. Mother and father stood there, hugging each other, knowing the price even though it was not our doing.
       They broke into our houses like a tidal wave, taking parents and children. The best thing I knew to do in this situation was hide, and hide did I do. I found myself hiding in the norm for me, where men like the green coats would never reach. Soon, after hours of hiding, I scuttled out like a mouse, and saw that my father and mother were gone, and everything else was left to ruin. Oh how much I hate this night of glass.