"Mama...make them stop." Jasna's cry rose in pitch as the gunfire in the streets intensified, her hold on her mother tightening equally.
The sound of sniper-fire and mortars was nothing new, but, familiarity didn't ease the fear of her children or her own as she worried over a husband who might be caught in the middle of it. He'd only gone out to the market for bread and cheese, he wouldn't be gone long. As she reassured her daughter she kept her eye on the front door, listening for the sound of footsteps that would finally bring him safely back to them.
These were the times she hated the most, the times when she lived in fear that he might not come back to them. She should be used to it after all these months, these were the daily dangers they lived with, the risks he faced when queuing for water or food for them, when going to work. The dangers that forced them to hold their children prisoner in the apartment, with only a dark hallway to use as a playground. If only she hadn't been so stubborn when he had asked her to leave, but, how could she have lived without him? What kind of a life would they have had if they were apart?