1846 was the last year I saw my home, the last year I felt safe and secure. I had grown much thinner over the past year as well as my family. In 1845 we were beginning to starve as most of our crops had failed and died. They just kept dying and we couldn't figure out why. Every night dad would beg and pray to God in hopes of food for his family and I would pray too. I stopped in 1846 though. There was no use if God wouldn't help the dying families who were victim to the carnivorous famine that spread across Ireland like plague. Originally, even though we were starving, my mum and dad had decided to stay at home with broad shoulders trying to fight against Mother Nature herself. But then, Meredith died and soon after Dylan left us too. I became the only surviving child. They were both younger than me and they changed dad's mind. The day Dylan died was the day my dad lost hope. Mum had grown sick from malnutrition and her mind couldn't focus on her hope as she was always in a state of fever. I was scared to lose them and I also didn't want to be taken by the famine. Soon after my dad found us a way to the promise land, America. Whenever I asked about this promise land he said America had food like that was the only important reason. He had grown into this state of escape like he only wanted to run and with mum sick and my siblings dead he had even more reason to. This was his response to fear. I was scared that once we got to our promise land he would find his escape and never come back. The morning we went boarded the rusty ship it was raining and there was a long line. I was hoping to see familiar faces but soon realized there weren't going to be any as they had all been victims. So I closed my eyes and took my dad's hand and followed. When we got to the front of the crowd we were stopped. My dad pushed me forward which forced me to open my eyes and take in my dimlit metal surroundings. But I didn't go far in fear of losing him. Then I heard him start yelling. They weren't letting my mum on the boat because she was sick. That's when I turned to run back but I was grabbed by a mother standing near me and brought further into the sea of people. I screamed and cried and tried to push her away but her claws gripped onto my waist. I remember it hurt but not because of her nails that gouged into my skin as I struggled but because I lost the last remaining pieces of my home. I just wanted her to let me go. I wanted to grieve at the lost of my brother and sister and hold my mum and dad. But the doors were closing with creaks and rattles. At the last moment my dad slipped through filled with rage as his face was bright red. But there was also pain as the tears ran down his face into the divots on his cheek. He caught sight of me and ran towards me. The mother slowly let go of me seeing signs of recognition. He embraced me and our broken bodies tried to fill in the wholes that had been created from our losses and the starvation.
He whispered in my ear, "Their is also hope. The promise land has our hope." I decided in that embrace with those words, I would put hope in this promise land and from there we fell asleep. Our bones aching and shaking from our grief, we fell asleep on the cold, hard ground which had become our new home for the month.