It Happened to Us Issue 15 Home Page

It Happened Back Home Vicente Chavez from El Salvador Photo: Thomas Peters It was late, and I was going home. I was riding a bicycle when a truck stopped. I had lived in another country for six years without going back to my country. I was afraid of what could happen if I went back, but finally I decided to go. It was December 17, 1998. I took a plane to my country. My older brother was there and my mother's sister and my grandfather. I almost cried, but I didn't. Everything seemed so small—for example, the streets, the houses, and the bridges. But people there were scared. Everybody there said to me, "Be careful." It was late, and I was going home. I was riding a bicycle when a truck stopped. The window opened and a man pointed a gun straight to my head and said, "Hey boy, put your bicycle in the back of the truck and have a good evening." My reaction was quick. "Okay, no problem." Then I walked to my house. The people in the truck were robbers. More stories: Trapped in a Reception Hall | What Was That Noise? | What a Scary Experience! Return to: It Happened to Us | Issue 15 | Home Page TOPICS Online Magazine - ©1997-2007 - Sandy and Thomas Peters - topics.mag@gmail.com